


Bones Of The Fae: Unseelie Alliances

by Shevrock



Category: Original Work
Genre: Chainsmoking, Cults, Cyberpunk, Demons, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Goblins, Imps - Freeform, Mages, Skye - Freeform, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Weapons, Weapons Kink, Witches, Wizards, Worldbuilding, fear ghorta, pregnant fae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 58,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8463223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shevrock/pseuds/Shevrock
Summary: Jim Bones is an Assassin for the Unseelie Court of the Fae, but that title didn’t just come into the world overnight. First vampires were found to be productive members of society, having long storied families owning large fortune 500 companies then the Fae Queens came out of Arcadia. They built a city from Oswego to Rochester NY on the Great lakes and called it Skye. No one was sure what was going on, but one thing was sure, magic was brutally real. You could dance all night with a succubus, try and out drink a Clurican, arm wrestle a dwarf, swim with Selkies, have brownies clean your house, even have gnomes build you a new car. As always where there is light, there is also dark, and Skye has some of the darkest alleys you will ever find. Powries, Goblins, Adze, Ramanga, Wume, Blautsauger, and draugrs. The list of Fae that would rather tear someone limb from limb than look at them is longer than Apple’s terms of service. Much worse are those who dabble in dark magics and cybernetics, giving Trolls half-ton cybernetic arms or Barghests wolverine claws.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Something’s brewing deep in the underbelly of Skye; three pregnant Unseelie Fae have died in as many days. Bones is called to the Unseelie seat of power and thrice bonded with finding the murderer while protecting the King’s pregnant human consort. Bones will need the help of a rune crafting wizard, his vampiric girlfriend, a grizzled detective, a rent boy in the know, and the Seelie Queen while trying to gumshoe his first serial murder. That’s if his own demons don’t get him first.

Bone of the Fae  
Re: Unseelie Alliances

 

I watched my breath curl around the scope on my rifle. The air was slowly warming up, March beating away winter in the north, but snow still clung to every surface. I took in another shuddering breath and adjusted my rifle against the concrete rooftop. Buffalo was an old city. It had survived multiple suicide bombings during the Texan revolution and stood the test of time thereafter. Few others could say the same. Old brick mixed concrete and steel alongside new buildings of heavy plastics and other synthetic materials made a powerful statement. From the street it looked like an old Parisian photograph, but on the roof at night, it was a neon wonderland.

“Mommy, look at me.” A little girl in a pink snowsuit shouted over the wind as she stumbled out of the small dance studio six stories below. The mother, closing up the door her girl stumbled out of, was juggling keys trying to close the door of the studio with gloves on. I unconsciously swung my M4 pattern rifle in the little girls’ direction to get a better look at her through the scope. She was small, three feet tall at the most, and nothing but baby fat. As she danced in the snow I had to wonder if I had smiled as brightly. My childhood memories were fraught with people looking at television screens getting one snippet of bad news after another. The little one’s mother looked to be my age, she would know what it was like to grow up before the revolution.

Before Skye.

 

“Mommy!” As my mind drifted away, so too had the little girl drifted left to the nearest alley. I swore, knowing that my job description had just changed from recon to protection, re-shouldered my rifle and put my left foot, with a $2,000 custom loafer on it, on the berm of the roof, for a better aim. The mother couldn’t see what the girl was screaming at, but the pair of us had a disgustingly plain view. Four foot tall, naked, hairless, red skinned, long tonged, sharp toothed, and hungry with strong suckers on their fingers and toes. Six little red devils stopped picking at trash under a neon sign and charged down the alley towards the little girl. She didn’t know what she was seeing, neither did the mother when she scooped up her daughter, but it was my job to. They were Yara-Ma-Ya-Who. Nasty little bastards out of Australia that live in trees and swallow traveler’s whole. Some idiot thought they would look good in a quarter million dollar cage and ended up getting eaten himself. My employer wanted me to keep an eye on them until a capture team could, well, capture them.

As soon as the mother moved far enough to the right I let loose a few rounds of 5.56 NATO. Five rounds took out two of them before they skittered out of the alley and slid into the snowy road. I leaned higher on the berm and aimed nearly straight down to get a good shot on them. My rifle peppered one more, completely taking off its thin arm. My aim was completely thrown off as two of the three remaining Yara-ma stopped to eat their dying brethren in large chunks. Two things it afforded me the chance to notice, however, was the mother and daughter scramble into a small electric car, and one of the Yara-ma jump up onto the brick and glass of my building.

“Balls.” I swore to myself as I petulantly fired a few rounds in the climbing Yara-ma’s direction. Once I was done being a child I hit the safety on my rifle and set it in the oversized duffel bag I had sitting in the snow next to me. The bag itself was a simple canvas affair from my days in the service but, inside of it was a small collection of weapons that would give Rambo a hard on. Instead of pulling out one of the submachine guns, too many small rounds to throw around in a semi-residential area, another rifle, same reason, a shotgun, too loud, or a carbine, not loud enough, I grabbed an American classic.

The Machete.

Well, the Greeks technically got there first with the Kopis, and the Kukri has a better cutting edge, but the machete works great as an impromptu falchion. I pushed the bag away with my, other, expensive loafer and backed up around antique satellites. As I created space between me and the edge of the roof, I unbuttoned my suit coat and pulled out my sidearm. The real American classic, a WWII era .45 caliber M1911A1. I hand loaded the heavy .45 rounds myself and filled the hollow points with mercury and silver. If the bullet and wound channel didn’t kill whatever I shot at, heavy metal poisoning certainly would. No sooner were my weapons of choice in hand than on of the little red devils crest the roof. Before his tiny malformed hairless chest got over the berm I put three rounds into it. I couldn’t hear over the ringing in my ears but, if I could hear, there would certainly be a sigh from the Yara-ma’s broken body before if fell off of the roof.

I took a steadying breath, adrenaline making my gloved hands shake more than the cold ever could, and kept my pistol aimed at the edge of the roof. I heard a small pop over the ringing in my ears, much like the click of a crocodiles mouth before its jaws snap shut, and another Yara-ma flung itself into the air from the side of the building. I tried to track it with my 1911, wildly firing a few precious rounds, only two the beast and tearing away chunks of limb as it came at me teeth first. I decided to save my last few rounds, set my feet, and swung the machete into the Yara-ma’s head. The blade, which I sharpened on a very expensive grindstone I bought from a pair of greedy dwarves, sliced clean through its ugly mug. Sadly its momentum sent the corpse, and ichor, right into me.

“This…” I swore and kicked the half-decapitated Yara-ma. 

“Was just dry cleaned.” After kicking the corpse one more time I did a bit of math. When I came up one Yara-ma-Ya-Who short, I knew why the hairs on the back of my neck was feeling a little more active than usual.

“You can still walk away.” I slowly changed my stance in the gore soaked snow. There was a roof access behind me. I couldn’t be sure, but he, it, would have to be there.

“It doesn’t have to be like this child of Lilith.” I heard a strange chortling growl. I swung around just in time to see half of an old satellite coming towards my head. I jumped into the snow, officially ruining my suit, and fired the last few rounds in my pistol at the Yara-ma’s shadow. I swore for good measure as I stood up and switched the machete to my right hand. My hearing was still dodgy from the gunfire, but the Yara-ma’s wouldn’t be too much better.

 

“Gah!” I shouted as the Yara-ma landed on my back, his suckers ripping through the plain cloth of my suit coat and shirt. My waist coat survived okay, as it was a combination of ballistic materials.

My skin? Not so much.

I threw myself backward into an empty dove coop, the wire cutting into both of our flesh. Doves were a rare sight these days, so I didn’t feel too bad about the coop. I heard a similar grunt of pain from the beast behind me as I trashed around. Once I had the right angle, I pushed the machete through some of my shirt into the Yara-ma’s chest. His feet didn’t let go, but his hands did. I grabbed the beast wrists and twisted around, wrenching the suckers off my back with a gush of blood, and pulled the bastard into a headlock. I didn’t know if it had to breathe, but I did know it had to keep its head attached. I pulled one of the two blades I kept in my shoulder holster and jammed it into the Yara-ma’s throat. It started to thrash violently, its suckers grasping and tearing at everything they could, kicking snow into the air, making horrible sounds not fit for a tortured animal. Its neck was deceptively thick as I sawed the iron dagger through its thick red hide. After a few seconds of cutting, pulling, and screaming, I simply ripped the things head off. Once it was done I just sat there, covered in blood, and panting. I looked into the whole where the head had gone, little more than torn meat and a neck bone, and wondered if I could write a new suit off as a business expense.

After catching my breath, and pushing the quickly decaying corpse off of me, I made my way over to my duffel bag. I pulled out two plastic packages and started to strip in the snow. I grew up on an American military base in Iceland, my mother was even a native, but I did not have any particular love of the cold. Instead, I had a dire love of fashion. I tossed my destroyed clothes into the bloodied snow and pulled the fresh clothes out of their plastic. I loved the smell of pressed clothes. Clean. Refreshing. Clinical. It was something I could depend on. Almost like the cold. Once I was in proper attire, sans a tie, I unloaded my M4, collected and loaded my M1991A1, and shivered my way down the fire escape. Parked in the alleyway was a small black ethanol town car. I preferred older cars, not for the fuels they burned, but for their severe lack of curves. Everything before the 90’s had actual lines. Now everything looks like a roller skate or cardboard box with wheels. I scratched the back of my head and opened the trunk of the car. There were, many, more guns and hand weapons, and an unholy amount of explosives, but those were just spares. I am a firm believer of being prepared for everything. I grabbed a magazine from my trunk for my pistol and stashed it in my shoulder holster to replace the one I had used on the rooftop.

After closing the trunk I slid into the horrendously small drivers’ seat and turned on the heater. The car wasn’t overly small, I was just abnormally tall. Not freakishly tall, just enough to scare small children and elderly women when I shop. I buckled up and started adjusting my mirrors. Once I started I noticed blood in my short blonde hair and a large bright red round spot covering the entire right side of my face. I hit the little center light and got a better look in the mirror. There was a small nick, maybe from the thrown satellite, above my hairline that was slowly but surely starting to bleed. I sighed and reached over the passenger seat into the dash. After fishing past some napkins and straws I found some super glue. It wasn’t pretty, but it sealed up the wound without the use of any strange sponges, foams, probiotics, synthetics, Nano machines, or any other fashion. When I tossed the glue back into the dash I started to notice some of my other wounds now that the adrenaline was truly drained out of my body. I took a deep shuddering breath, thought about what I learned about pain management, and started the car. I had to report what happened with the Yara-Ma-Ya-Who. Either I had the two days it would take for capture team to show up off, or I’d get put to work.

One way or another, I saved my employer air fare.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Once the sun started to rise I could see my city in all its glory. Don’t get me wrong, Buffalo is a great town, I even lived there for a while, but it wasn’t Skye. I couldn’t help but stare at the thirty foot concrete walls the turnpike went over as I turned towards the city. It was covered in graffiti and crumbling from rapid overgrowth, but it was a testament of the fear people felt about the city. I couldn’t blame them. I hit my blinker and slid over a lane.

Mere days after vampires were found to be productive members of society, and owning a very large portion of the stock market, something unprecedented happened. Everyone along the lakes between Rochester and Oswego were suddenly spirited away to the white house lawn. Among them were two women of ethereal beauty. Maeve, The Seelie Queen of air and light, and Oona, The Unseelie Queen of the Wild Hunt and the restless undead. They told the President that they were taking the property on the lake, forever to be called Skye, in no uncertain terms. Oona disappeared into the depths of the city, her Unseelie fiends tearing large chunks of it and the surrounding areas to shreds, while Maeve tried to console whoever she could. It didn’t do too much good.

“Get off the road you sodden hag!” I shouted at a car that nearly sideswiped me as I turned off of a main artery. It wasn’t the fastest way to my employer’s office, but cutting through the vampires ‘cattle pens’ on the outskirts of the city was the easiest. The pens, as they were semi-jokingly referred to were low income housing that the vampire families set up for those who were addicted to being bitten, and were ready to be bitten again. It certainly didn’t hurt that a vampire’s bite had the same psychological effect as a handful of LSD. I unconsciously scratched my shoulder, thinking of the last time I had been bitten.

As I turned down another road I saw a few men in dress blues cavorting down the street. There was a pang of regret before I sighed and took an unnecessary turn. I did my time in the service. I fought the Texans during their ‘religious secession’ for five long years. I didn’t need another reminder. I stepped on the gas and tried to push my way out of the closed in pens, my eyes yearning for the green I knew was further ahead. A neon sign flashed to life above my car Succulent Succubi. That was one of the things that made all the shit in Skye worth it. Despite the fact that millions of people were ejected from their homes, millions that died in the war, the American government becoming a puppet regime to literal faeries, magic was brutally real. You could dance all night with a succubus, try and out drink a clurican, arm wrestle a dwarf, grow your beard smoke some weed and hang out with some new age druids, swim with selkies, have brownies clean your house, even have gnomes build you a new car. Where there is light, there is dark, and Skye has some of the darkest alleys you will ever find. Powries, Goblins, Trolls, Adze, Ramanga, Wume, Blautsauger, draugr, blue hags, buo, bas ,strix, the list of things that would rather tear someone limb from limb than look at them is longer than the Apple terms of service. That doesn’t even begin to touch what come from mixing Fae magics with wetware or cybernetics.

I couldn’t help but take a deep breath once the ten story pens were behind me and I could see more of the slowly rising sun over my city. The pens were and oppressive force, full of need, want, greed, disgust, distaste, sorrow. The longer you stayed in there the more you realized how greasy it felt on your mind. A tingle ran down my spine as I switched lanes one last time. My employer had an office under a nightclub which, despite the early hour, was still packed. I jockeyed into a parking space and slid out of the car into the snow. Not much had fallen the night before, if any, but what was on the ground had obviously been trampled by high heels and useless shoes. I may wear $2000 loafers, but they’re bullet proof, have steel toes, and, most importantly, are slip proof. I looked from the line of men and women, all dressed inappropriately for the cool morning, to the purple neon sign above them. The neon sign proudly shouted into the cold air with the word “Lush” on its lips. I wasn’t an introvert as a child, or a teenager, but my idea of a good time on the base had been working out with the other servicemen. Clubs had always been outside my realm of experience. I mentally shrugged and walked up to the bouncer, bypassing the complaining line, and simply stared at him.

“Name?” He asked tonelessly. The snake tattoo on his forehead twitched uneasily as he spoke. That was something else neat about having the Fae ‘out’. Mages, the sane ones, were able to practice their crafts much more openly.

“Jim Bones.” I said easily. Please leave all Star Trek jokes at the door. He looked at the back of his list, paper rather than a tablet, and nodded once. His snake’s tail rattled as he undid the velvet rope and let me brush past him. I threw open the double doors with a confidence I didn’t feel. The people, and things, in Lush would eat me alive if I slunk in. My suit wasn’t purple and I didn’t have diamond cufflinks, but I strode into the smoke and music like I owned the room. In reality the smell brought back memories I’d rather forget and the music was loud enough to rattle the fillings in the back of my mouth. The music, little more than hyperactive thumping and auto-tuning, was synced to a neurotic lighting system. I was drug free, at the moment at least, and the lights alone were doing funny things to my head. I watched half naked men and women dancing with, slightly more naked elves and other things. I kept my posture up, I just simply hugged the wall until I got to the door near the DJ. When I got to the blatantly plain white door I put my thumb on the small pad until the lock clicked. I frantically pushed it open and closed it behind me. I didn’t care that I went from a preacher’s daughter’s wet dream to a distressingly sterile hallway. The drugs, the sex, the Fae, the absolute need, all of it brought back memories I didn’t need. I took a deep breath and looked down the hallway from a horror movie, pre-blood.

The hallway itself wasn’t so bad. It was just a pure buffer between the energies of the club and my employers’ office. After three doors on each side and three fluorescent lights, there was a short set of stairs going down. I took the stairs down until it went dark, then I went down for a few more steps until I was greeted with flickering firelight and the smell of dirt and onions. I tried not to snort the smell out of my nose as I stepped off the stairs and looked over to the fireplace. It was easily as tall as I was, all done in stone with ornate wolves carved into the masonry. Along the back wall, barely visible in the shadows cast from the fire, was a large desk and an even larger bookcase behind it.

“You know it’s bad to read in the dark?” I asked snarkily. I didn’t realize I had heard pencil on paper over the sound of the crackling fire until it stopped.

“You.” Grumbled a voice that sounded like gravel ground against glass.   
“You, are very early.” The voice said impetuously. I pushed down the feeling of fear boiling up in my stomach. This was another one of those moments where showing anything other than wanton confidence would be a bad idea.

 

“Simply observing Lilith’s children became impossible.” I said with a shrug. “I had to terminate.”

“You did what!” It took every bit of control in my body not to pull my gun and empty it at the beast who leapt over the desk. The bookkeeper was a six foot tall humanoid goat with knurled horns giving him another two feet. In the small space between us, kissing distance really, I’d be lucky to piss on him before he could kill me. I took a confident step forward and look right in his eyes.

“I killed them you old Goat. They went after a family.” I stared at the bookkeeper for a few more seconds until he huffed out a warm, smelly, breath and simply deflated. He backed up, grabbed a dark robe he must have shucked off, and sat back down behind his desk.

“Nevertheless, Lilith will not be pleased.” He picked up a quill with his hoof, something I’ve commended him on multiple times, and marked a few items on a sheaf of paper. 

“She has been very unpleasant as of late.” The Bookkeeper bemoaned to himself.

“Not to be rude, but anything concerning her goes way over my head.” I said, trying to make up a little for getting in the Goats face moments ago. It is all give and take with the Fae. Everyone has a role to play, no hard feelings one way or another. Even if someone dies.

“It would if you were told to kill her.” The Bookkeeper said flatly. I laughed. Like I could kill the first snake. The only demon who clawed her way out of hell into the realm of the Fae. The mother of all vampiric races of Fae in some way shape or form. Me, a mortal. HA!

“Wait?” I look at the Goat as he shuffled around some papers with his cloven hoofs. 

“Are you joking?” My heart started to pound as he fished a pair of spectacles from his desk and perched them on his snout.

“Yes.” He deadpanned with a small smile. My heart started to go back where it belonged as I stared at the Bookkeeper with admiration. The Fae were an odd sort.

“So what am I doing now that I’ve killed the Yara-ma?” I asked,   
scratching my neck nervously. The Bookkeeper looked aside, his gaze farther away than anything his eyes were actually resting on.

“You are supposed to go inside.” He nodded his horns towards the massive wooden door set into the right wall. My heart decided it had too much today and was going to give out.

“I was going to send someone after you in a few hours.” The goat explained as he shifted a few more papers.

“What?” I could barely breathe. I had only been behind that door a handful of times, and none of them had been something that needed repeating. There were wonderful things there. Things so beautiful they make you question if you are still alive, and then there were things so horrifying you have to question you sanity. I started to back away unconsciously. As soon as I took my second step backwards the Goat’s eyes locked onto mine.

“If you run you will never make it out of this building alive.” He said gruffly. My back foot rooted in place. I couldn’t be sure if it was magic or my own sense of self preservation, but I stopped moving. I took a deep breath and weighed my options. Behind me was a certain cowards death, in front of me was the promise of the world, and all the pleasure and pain that entails. I took one more breath before walking up to the door.

“Wish me luck.” I said over my shoulder.

“I don’t believe in luck.” The Goat said as I pushed open the door.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

“This isn’t so bad.” I whispered to myself as I quietly closed the door behind me. My ears popped after my first few steps, as they always did when I walked into Arcadia, the Fae realm. I couldn’t see too far ahead, but there were enough braziers scattered around to get a good picture of what was happening. Low couches and chairs were filed with elves usually clad in light furs or nothing but the pale flesh they were born with. As my eyes lingered I had to remind myself of the price of letting my libido getting the better of me someplace like this. I tore my eyes off of a particular beauty and took in the rest of the long hall. The floors were a dark stone and covered in straw and small bones. The walls were some kind of thick stone with great fireplaces set into them. As I walked forward, avoiding the cheering and jeering Gentry, I looked up and found the room to be lacking a ceiling. Instead there was simply something of a leveled darkness that could be a flat sheet or have a depth as infinite as space.

“Bite him!” I heard a particularly thunderous voice boom from the front of the hall. Fear shot through my spine. I had to keep going forward. After moving around more of the half-naked cheering elves I finally saw what they found spectacle in. A red cap, a green beret of the Powrie world who dips his hat in blood, and a goblin were in the center of an iron ring fighting for their lives. The goblin, looking like a knobby limbed, green knurled skinned, barrel with teeth and an abnormally long nose, took a few swipes at the powrie with its six inch claws. I’ve killed a powrie before with a twelve gauge slug to the back of the head, two slugs to be specific, but I’ve never even heard of a human or mage having to deal with a goblin.

Behind the death match was a small raised area with two thrones. Standing in front of one throne was a man of godlike stature with a face that belonged on one of those magazines in the supermarket. He wore nothing more than a set of six packs, too tight leather pants, and a sword on his hip that looked heavier than my car. My eyes would have stayed locked onto his mere…magnetic presence were it not for the small, powerful sound of utter discontent that came from his left. My eyes were dragged away, over the nearly broken body of the powrie, to one of the purest beauties I was sure to ever see. She had long limbs so pale they looked like they had never had a single drop of blood pumped through them. Her impossibly sharp features were chiseled from marble with eyes little more than dark pits into hell with slight slits of flitting color to prove there was life behind them. To tie off the whole package was pure sable hair that entwined her whole body, somehow chastely covering her body despite her unrelenting nakedness. As she sat demurely in her chair, two succubi, without their glamour, were pawing at her feet with their cloven hoofs drunkenly. The goddess idly put out a hand, letting the one succubi to her left sit up, to pet the pretty demon’s little head.

 

I heard a wordless shout of distress to the left of the pure beauty. I looked over to see a man, almost as handsome as the first, wearing a red leather coat and pants. He seemed more interested in the fight than any other Fae in the room. Room being the operative word. 

I looked back into the ring to see the goblin trying to bend the red cap’s arm back at an awkward angle, both parties’ screaming obscenities in languages I was never meant to understand. The powrie mashed the slightly taller goblin in the face with its’ meaty arm until the green beasts nose bent aside with an audible pop. With a fresh scream filling the too warm air the powrie twisted around the odd bend the goblin had him in, and came back at the goblin’s throat tooth first. The goblin’s screams nearly deafened me as the red cap grabbed the knurled barrel by its greasy head and chest to get better leverage to thrash its head about. I wanted to turn away when the powrie ripped out the first chunk of the goblin’s throat, but I couldn’t show any weakness to these Fae. When the second bite was nearly done, I needed to turn away. After the red cap chewed off the goblins arm and started swinging blood at the crowd for their pleasure, I wasn’t sure what I felt anymore.

“Far Darrig, my friend.” The massive man with the BMW for a sword started as he stepped down from the raised platform. He clasped arms with the man in the ostentatious leather before speaking again.

“You and your red caps have once again proven your place in the Slough and the Hunt.” The pair looked at the Gentry as if they were posing for a picture.

 

“I am very pleased to hear that Fin Bheara.” The pair pulled into each other into a brotherly hug before turning to the ring. The cold iron ring, not deadly but certainly unpleasant to the touch, was being opened by a goblin with a cybernetic arm so large he was using it as a third leg. It was becoming less and less rare, but no less horrifying, to see Fae with cybernetic implants. Synthetics, grown in a lab or on the body, were much easier to understand, but not large portions of deadly metals. All it took was an insulator from the metal, silicone was common, and a troll could swing an extra half ton of steel or use wolverine style claws. It certainly made my job more interesting.

The goblin with the super arm, it actually looked fairly cheap having only three fingers, grabbed the iron ring as if it was nothing more than a stuffed animal and lifted it over the red cap. Two more goblins came and collected what was left of their comrade and threw him into the nearest fireplace. That was going to smell worse than a dead skunk soon.

“May you find many pleasures until your next visit.” Fin Bheara said to Far Darrig as he walked over to the woman and bowed before her.

“Queen Oona.” He said simply. She gave a slight nod, still scratching between her succubis’ horns. He smiled brightly at her, waved his battered powrie over to him and casually opened a portal in mid-air. I blinked a few times to make sure I didn’t mistake anything, but he did just open a blank space in front of him like it was a tangible door. He must have opened another doorway out of or deeper into Arcadia. Arcadia was something of a conundrum to people like me, or people in general. To most people, even mages, the Fae realm was a dangerous place. What few expeditions have been mounted to explore it have always ended in disaster. In my mind, the Fae are afraid of something in there.

“James, welcome to Court.” I felt the pit of my stomach drop out as my attention was dragged to the Unseelie Queen. She beckoned me forth with a crooked finger. Running away crossed my mind again but, as I stepped over a large chunk of goblin flesh, I knew it was too late. I took a reassuring breath a put a little more confidence into my steps. When I was respectful distance away from the thrones I swept one foot back and went into a bow, Queen and King in turn. Fin Bheara was still resuming his throne, but it was the thought that counted. It never hurt to be polite to creatures who could probably melt your brain inside your skull. I stayed in that low bow until I heard Oona make a low tsk sound at her pets, making them back away. When I looked up Oona was playing with her hair, eyes locked onto my face. Getting into a staring match was the last thing I wanted to do, but the depths of Oona’s eyes were pulling me. For just a few seconds it felt better than anyth…

“He’s a polite one.” Bheara broke the unspoken conversation with a pointed finger as he leaned heavily onto the ornate arm of his throne. 

 

“Wise enough to fear us and vulnerable enough to want to lay before us.” My eyes shot behind Oona to the two Succubi hiding behind her chair. Devastatingly timeless creatures, reduced to mewling pups begging for any attention they can get from an uncaring god. The only thing that saved me from that same fate at her feet was my history of usefulness.

“I have three questions for my James Galdur Bones.” Oona said slowly. Three was a big number for the fae, thrice bonded and whatnot, but using my full name was equally telling. I wasn’t going to like whatever came out of her mouth next. I swallowed hard and gave a slight nod of understanding, the movement pulling the superglued injury on my scalp.

“Did you know that three of my Pregnant Unseelie Fae have died in just as many days?” Oona asked as she set one leg over the other, her hair still somehow maintaining the perfect balance of decency and undress. Aside from the fact that there were more threes, it was usually impossible to tell when a Fae was gestating. Their whole process was…alien to say the least. 

“I did not, my Queen.” I said humbly, with another small bow. She didn’t seem disturbed at this thankfully Fin Bheara adjusted himself in his plush throne and loudly scratched his light beard. I could almost feel Oona not shooting him a look.

“Then I assume you know I am unable to bear children and therefore my husband courts mortal women.” Fin Bheara smiled, his jaw actually making an audible sound as he did so. 

“It’s not as if I can blame him. They can be so…” She sucked on her lower lip, as if trying to decide which word to use. 

 

“Succulent.” I did nothing more than give a short nod. It was well know that Oona was infertile for whatever reason. Mentioning that fact aloud was a good way to get me to show up on your doorstep with a rather impolite message to impart. I wouldn’t want to think what would happen if I was so bold. Toenail clippers and a blowtorch come to mind.

“He’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut too.” Bheara said with a smile in his wife’s direction. When he returned his gaze back to me, he winked. It was an odd gesture to say the least. Oona smiled in my direction before raising her right hand and snapping her fingers. Another door from nowhere opened, this time letting out a rebel of a young girl. She looked like she was in her early twenties, pink flats, jeans, black fingerless gloves, a faded black band t-shirt, black hoodie, a pair of head phones, dark shoulder length hair with generous purple streaks, lip, eye, and ear piercings, and a baby bump maybe eight months along. I’d seen some strange things in my life, both in the service and in my time working for the Unseelie Court, but see what amounted to a 90’s punk walk behind the Unseelie Queen and start kissing Fin Bheara right next to her certainly ranked up there. Fin Bheara growled and grabbed the girls chin, pulling her deeper into the kiss. The Gentry behind me seemed to shrink as the rage around Oona nearly became a tangible thing. I myself felt my manhood tighten into something the size of an almond as the kiss continued. As Oona continued to stare daggers and the girl moved to the front of Fin Bheara, I cleared my throat. Instantly every eye in the hall was on me.

“You were saying?” I asked with a slight tilt to my head. I wasn’t sure if anyone knew what to do with that particular breach of protocol, but the girl stepped of the platform and walked down to stand down next to me. I wanted to look at her, figure out who could make the Unseelie king blush, but there was no way I could tear my eyes away from Oona.

“Do you know Mabily Ulster?” Oona asked icily, the last vestiges of her small smile long gone. I looked to my right at the young girl who gave me a bright smile and waved. After turning back to my Queen I simply shook my head.

“Well, James, you are in luck.” Oona said with a devious smile creeping up on her lips. “Until you find, kill, and bring me the head of who is killing my pregnant subjects, Mabily is under your direct protection.” Mabily and I both balked at the thought. I had no idea how to protect someone in the civilian world. In the service you just put whatever, or whoever, you were protecting in a bunker 60 feet underground and kill anything that come within 300 meters. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal, even in Skye.

“Don’t you have people you can pay for that?” I asked seriously. Oona nodded her head from side to side.

“I do, but why pay them when I’m already paying you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

I pushed open the front door of the club and unhappily greeted a happy ray of sun and a brash of chill wind. The only thing the cold air and sunlight did was expose how desperate the people waiting outside the club looked. The line looked like it was full of all the anonymous’, Alcoholics, narcotics, cybernetics, wetware, Vampire bites, Ellyon dust, tattoo, magic play, the works. I shook my head and walked towards the town car. Mabily shouldered a messenger bag she picked up on the way out and fell in step behind me.

“You look a little put out.” Mabily opened as she walked in front of me and turned around. He baby weight didn’t seem to weigh her down any. I fished my keys out of my suit pocket and unlocked the car door.

“Do you need someone to talk to?” She asked as I sat down. I closed my door on her words and watched her walk around the car. I was sorely tempted to keep the door locked and just drive off. She leaned down, smiled, and knocked on the window. After another deep breath I let her in.

“Why choose a job with the Fae if they put you on edge so much?” Mabily asked with a little too much insight. I looked over to her with a retort on the tip of my tongue, only to have it die when I saw her struggling to get the seat belt around her belly. I sighed and sat back in my seat.

“I didn’t exactly choose my job.” I muttered. Once I heard her seat belt click I started the car and moved out of the parking lot.

“Either way, you’re not quite what I expected.” Mabily said as she pulled out a small battered notebook and a pair of horn rimmed glasses.

“In the Bookkeepers tome of dangerous beasts and persons you have the highest blurb of any mortal that isn’t a witch or wizard. James Bones. Human with Exposure to Arcadia, PTSD, and Attachment issues. Capable or Minor Glamours and Faerie fire. If you must engage do not allow target to pick arena.” Mabily closed her notebook and pushed it back inside her bag.

“I don’t have attachment issues.” I muttered quietly. There was an accident up ahead that slowed traffic to a halt. There was nothing to be seen from out the window but break lights and kicked up snow. Mabily raised her hand, palm out, as if she wanted me to talk to it. I sighed and let my forehead hit the steering wheel.

“I need a nap.” I complained to myself. After a little mental math I figured I’d been up for a little over two days. My record was four and a half days with only a minor detriment to my aim and mild hallucinations, but I wouldn’t want to push it that far.

“You’re not getting one today.” Mabily said with a smile in her voice.

“How so?” I asked inquisitively, not really sure I wanted the answer. When she didn’t answer, and the line of cars refused to move, I looked over to her. She was leaning against the door of the car, looking much too young to be in her current situation. Call me old fashion, but babies shouldn’t be having babies.

“What’s finally shut you up?” I asked glibly, silently hoping her tongue had rotted to the root. She shrugged and turned in her seat.

“Oona had said three Fae in just as many days, but you walked in just as the fourth day was beginning.” She began slowly. I nodded and waved my hand in a small circle, reeling the information out of her like a fisherman.

“Fin Bheara had me cast a watching spell over his other consorts and one of them ended up dying this morning.” Mabily looked down at her bag, looking nothing like the person who had the Unseelie king wrapped around her finger. Almost as distressing as the late information was the fact that she was a mage. On a general basis, they tend not to be the sanest sort.

“Thanks for the heads up I guess, Mabily.” I said with a sigh. After I dropped her off at my house I’d have to go try and get a look at whatever was left of the crime scene.

“Don’t call me Mabily.” She said hastily. I shot her a look as the line finally started to show some life.

“So what should I call you, your highness?” I asked sarcastically, pulling around a newly made scorch hole in the concrete. There were motorcycles with cathode lights strung along the wheels melted to the sides of the buildings. It might have been some kind of fight that held up traffic.

“Mab would do quite nicely, I should think.” Mab said self-righteously, crossing her legs under her and adjusting her seatbelt. I let out something of a derisive snort and nodded.

“Fine, Mab, You can refer to me as either Jim, or Bones.” I said in a tone equal to hers. She gave me just enough of a nod to acknowledge that I said anything at all. I looked over towards her and saw a body, a punk in neon colored biker leathers with useless wetware to hardware plugs hanging off of him spiked into the wall. I tilted my head to see what was holding him up and decided it was some kind of bone. Mab was just as curious as I was.

“So,” I started, deflecting the conversation from the present situation. 

“What do you know about the other three murders?” I heard Mab shake her head.

“Nothing really.” I moved the car around a large hunk of unidentifiable meat riddled with bullets. 

“I knew one of the girls in passing, but most of them were on the fringes of the Gentry.” Mab finished, turning to look behind her at another burnt hunk of bike that crashed into a parked car. Sirens were finally starting to sound in the distance. My exit finally came up and I ramped down it.

“Any clues as to how they might be finding pregnant Fae?” I asked as I took a few familiar turns. I looked to Mab after she didn’t answer for a few seconds to find her biting her lip, seeming to struggle with holding back a scathing remark.

 

“Maybe they, got lucky the first time and managed some kind of tracking spell from there.” Mab said testily. 

“Faery pregnancy, even with a human like me, is a wacky progress to say the least.” She turned in her seat, her face turning beat red and finger raised for a fight. My heartrate went up a few points thinking about what spells she might be able to cook up with that little finger.

“I have been seven months pregnant for over a year!” She shouted into the side of my face. 

“Every one of them that dies could have been days from popping. That also mean I could be days from getting rid of this bloody parasite!” Mab spitted as I pulled into my private parking space outside my building. I turned off the town car and turned in my seat to look over at the beat red baby oven.

“I’m sorry I hit a nerve, and I’m sorry about your ankles, but there are pressing matters at hand.” I said calmly, still thinking about her slowly descending finger. The car was too small for some kind of fire blast without scorching her as well. Maybe something in the form of electricity. Mab’s eyes slowly went wide, unsure what on earth was going on as I took the opportunity to exit the vehicle. She followed quickly, slung her bag, and pointed at my building.

“What are we doing here you insensitive prick?” Mab shouted over the incessantly cold wind.

“I live here.” I said easily.

“You live in a bar?” she asked in disbelief.

“Correction, I live above a bar.” I did a grandiose bow and swept out an arm.

“Welcome to the Golden Crown.” Mab seemed unimpressed. Probably still angry about something I said. I shrugged and turned away from her to walk inside. The Crown was a bit of an odd duck. The building was almost as old as the baby boomers and just as cobbled together from spare parts. The floor and ceiling were the black and white tile and strange white corkboard of a 50’s era soda bar respectively. The bar, starting from the enclosed stairs on the left to the bathrooms on the right, was a war relic brought in from Korea by the man who turned the building into the bar, Johnathan Bright. The barstools looked like overgrown chopstick holders with nice yellow wood. Along the windows were modern steel booths with red plush cushions glued onto the seats. If nothing else, it had character.

“Hi, James” said an undeniably happy feminine voice from behind the bar. I winced at my name. I looked around, seeing no one in the bar besides me, a confused Mab, and the bright spot cleaning the bar.

“Hi, Shelly.” I said in returned, forcing a little more goodwill into my voice than I really felt. Shelly Bright, A five foot and change woman with nothing but curves and locks of golden curls, was the daughter of the late proprietor. He put me up in the apartment above the Golden Crown during a rough patch out of respect of our old friendship and the service he was no longer able to provide for the country. During that time Shelly and I became the better part of brother and sister, but I always tried to keep a respectable distance between us..

“Who’s your friend?” Shelly asked as she instinctively pulled out a pair of cups and set them under a drink machine that was nearly as ancient as the wall it was mounted to.

“Shelly, meet Mab. Mab, meet Shelly.” I ushered Mab over to the bar and sat down in one of the slightly awkward bar stools.

“Want something to drink?” Shelly asked, casually ignoring the fact that Mab was pregnant. I could see the hamsters spinning all kinds of gears in her head.

“Pepsi, if you don’t mind.” Mab said as she eyed up the specials board mounted on the wall blocking off the stairs to my apartment. Shelly looked over to me, asking if I would like the same, to which I gave a simple nod. Five seconds later two sodas and straws slid across the scarred wood bar. Shelly casually leaned close to my right ear, opposite Mab.

“That’s not yours is it?” Shelly whispered quietly, referring to the ever so slowly baking sea monkey. When Shelly leaned back I simply smiled and shook my head no. Mab shipped her soda rather loudly for a second.

 

“You don’t have to worry about offending me Ms. Shelly. You seem to be one of those clinically happy people you can’t help but smile around” Mab said with the brightest smile I had yet to see on her.

“Besides, James,” Mab put emphasis on my name, the name I asked her specifically not to call me by. 

“Isn’t my type. No, this little boy belongs to the Unseelie King.” Shelly simply poured a soda as Mab spoke took a small sip, and made a hmph sound. 

“Is he cute?” Shelly asked, unfazed by the fact that Fin Bheara was at least personally responsible for the death of more people than the Bubonic Plague and Smallpox combined. Mab nodded vehemently with a wicked smile.

“And he’s built like a brick shit house.” Mab did a little wiggle in her seat that shouldn’t have been attractive due to how far along she was in her pregnancy. “He did this thing with his hands while he was holding me against his stomach with his thigh…”

“Is anybody hungry?!” I interrupted rather abruptly. I wasn’t a prude, if my past was anything to go by far from it, but that was my boss’s husband she was talking about. That was stuff that could dragged out of me in torture. I.E stuff I didn’t need to know. 

 

The pair of girls giggled as I walked around to get behind the bar. There was a newer flat gas grill next to a small fridge, the old grill lit on fire, used for eggs burgers and bacon. Once I got there and started pulling out eggs, peppers, bacon, cheese, and a few spices, the girls were right back at it. I sighed and turned the grill on. I really couldn’t cook, but there were things I could toss on a grill, stir together in a tasty gooey mess, and not burn. Although, my kitchen was a testament to the many things I definitely couldn’t cook. I cracked the eggs onto the grill, laid out the bacon, and waited for everything to start heating up before throwing on spices and adding peppers. Once everything was almost done I divided it into three portions and added an unhealthy amount of cheese and slid the food onto plates. In another minute the grill was scraped and the food was on the bar in front of me and the girls.

“Thank you, Bones.” Mab said, this time meaning her words. I gave her an imaginary hat tip and dug into my miniature heart attack. Shelly did the same and stared at the wall.

“I don’t really want to pry,” Shelly started hesitantly. “But, how did you and the Unseelie King end up being a thing?” She asked after a mouthful of bacon. I had been avoiding that particular question. Usually when a human gets in deep with the Fae it requires something to have gone terribly wrong at some point or another. My mind instantly shot back to my first few weeks after the war ended.

“Did Bones mention I’m a witch?” Mab set down her fork as she asked. Shelly just shrugged and moved closer to Mab.

 

“My power manifested pretty late, when I was seventeen or eighteen, and it got violent real quick.” Mab’s voice was thread as she spoke, and I could see her fists clenching into tight little balls of fury.

“No mage, not even the crazier ones, would get within ten feet of me. By the time I was twenty I was wanted in six or seven states.” Mab’s voice evened back out after she took a deep breath and looked back up through her black and pink hair.

“Oona found me hiding in a stolen motel six room with a hacker and a skip tracer who needed a heavy. She gave me a chance to make real magic instead of just doing my best not to blow my own wrists off when I was wiping my ass.” She picked up a strip of bacon and took a hasty bite of it.

“Somewhere along the way Bheara took an interest and did what he does. He wouldn’t exactly be my first pick, but he was pretty, and everyone who dances with the fae has a place to stand.” Mab said with another tinge of sadness in her voice. I caught her looking down at her belly with a bit of disgust. It took me a second, but what happened to her, even though she had some semblance of choice, was far from what she wanted or expected. We finished our food in relative silence and I took care of the plates when we were done. I got the information about the next victim from Mab and convinced Shelly to keep an eye on her. When Shelly protested I told her to lock Mab upstairs in my apartment. The smell of the dirty dishes would be sure to suffocate her.

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

The directions Mab provided me were regrettably generic. The most she could provide me with was the park number, as there were a great many parks in Skye, and that it was in one of the attached apartment complexes. As I pulled out of the Crown I wondered at how Faeries would go about signing a lease. Filling in previous rental history must be something of an awkward spot. I pointed my town car towards the east of the city and hit the police scanner on my dashboard. Pressing that little switch was like pouring a vat of poison onto my car. Between the droll reports of locations and reports were screams and gunfire.

“I’ve got an ogre eating a yellow Mercedes on North 32nd and east 15th.”

“In pursuit of three Druids heading south down 12th ave. unconscious dryad in possession.”

“Mage in First Trust Bank on 9th and 19th need immediate assistance.”

“Need an update on the, uh, streaking high schoolers riding snowmobiles.”

“Bringing a Sangoma and a bag of stolen limb into precinct 13.”

Traffic slowed to a halt, again, as I listened to the net. More and more of it rolled into my confined little car, making my skull feel much too small for so much information. As I was about to give up I saw more of those neon colored bikers mount the curb on their bikes and stream past my car. Must be nice to avoid traffic like that. Traffic started to move a bit more and I was able to exit onto a main artery.

“8-david-31 to control, I’ve got more illegal corpse tendon dealers on ice at east yew and north 48th.” Someone said over the net. No sooner had the officer said that did I hear the bikes that passed me by moments before roar to life. They came down the road, the wrong way, forcing me to the curb, and headed towards the cop. There was a microphone on my radio, and for just a moment, I was tempted to use it. Corpse tendons are a grinder special body modification grown from dead cells. Tendons and muscles are continuously grown and compacted until they are strong enough to bend steel, then augmented onto the buyer. Last time I knew, it had a fairly decent margin on the black market. Just as I was considering picking up the mic again, the park I needed to turn into came in sight. I sighed and turned into the nearest open parking space. The meter was covered in ice, making me scrape ice off of it with the quarter so I could pay its exorbitant price. I keep waiting for the things to take debit cards.

The park, though small and lightly snowed in, was nearly as beautiful as any other in the city. It wasn’t ostentatiously large or over the top in any fashion. I had perfectly trimmed trees, although they were mostly naked at the moment, and a nice playground near the center of the grounds. Off to the right were three large spaced out trees that would look right at home in an old Keebler House cookie commercial. The only thing that made them seem odd, aside from the silver plaque with numbers on it, was the wooden door set into the base of the trunk.

I opened the door I hoped would lead me to the crime scene, as there were cop cars outside and the Net mentioned the middle tree, and stepped into a new world. At least it felt like a new world. Outside the building looked like a tree, inside it looked like any other three story glass and concrete apartment complex. Light streamed in from behind me onto a large open area. To the right were a few uncomfortable looking leather couches, and on the right was a thin little man wearing a pressed white shirt and bow tie. I straightened my back, adjusted my suit with a curt motion, and walked up to the counter while pulling out my wallet. It took a long second of concentration, but I laid a glamour over the wallet before flipping it over to the concierge. 

“What can I do for you, Detective Bones?” the man asked quickly. Instant compliance. I stuffed my wallet back into my pocket and nodded towards the hallway.

“I got the call about the murder, but I didn’t catch the number of the apartment.” I leaned on the counter just a bit and looked down into the boy’s face with a smile.

“Any chance you can tell me which apartment it was so I don’t need to look like an ass on the Net?” I asked, heavy on the charm. I’m not saying all tiny men who work as doormen are gay, far from it. I just happen to know when a smile makes things a little smoother. He blushed a little bit before putting on a poor mask of depression.

“Poor, poor, Tania.” He wiped a purely nonexistent tear from his eye. I stood back from the counter and waited for him to finish his act.

“Those men went to her apartment with all that equipment and those big guns.” His voice went thready and he started to fan his face. For a moment I thought he might actually faint.

“There, there.” I said in a much more reassuring tone than I felt the need to. My meter was running and I was pandering to this. He finally took a deep breath and leaned against the table.

“She is,” He took a deep shuddering breath primarily through his nose 

“Was, in apartment 4. On the ground floor.” He let out more fake sobs as I reached over the table and patted him on the shoulder twice and walked off down the hall. I’ve known five year old girls who weren’t that dramatic.

The hallway was the kind of clean you only get when you pay a few thousand dollars for rent a week. Even for me, in my $2,000 shoes, $800 pants, bloodied $700 shirt, $8,000 ballistic waistcoat, and $900 suit jacket, I only payed $800 a month for rent, and found it mildly distressing. After I took my first left I could see two heavily armed officers in blue armor standing outside apartment 4. I pulled out my wallet one more time, checked the glamour, and showed it to the grunt as I walked past them. Thankfully they didn’t want to see any other identification, as I wasn’t giving any, and the bullets from their rifles might give my vest a bad hair day.

The inside of the apartment was, oddly enough, spaced out a lot like mine. The kitchen was set into the wall immediately to the right, living room forward to that and everything sort of left from there. Hers was just a little more upscale and cleaner than mine. I stepped around some knocked over furniture and followed a man in a white plastic jumpsuit towards a massive bedroom. We both ducked some kind of red drapery to enter a massive bedroom. Inside the only thing that could be heard was the over-loud sound of old cameras and the crinkling of plastics suits. There room would have been rather pretty, done in a red Asian style, if it weren’t for the dark skinned beauty laid spread eagle on the bed with nothing but a baby bump and the cylindrical holes in her chest.

“Something I can help you with, boy?” I heard a gravelly voice to my right ask. I wasn’t as impressive as the Goat’s, but this one sounded earned from many hard years of smoking and drinking. I turned to see a man getting close to six foot tall and sixty years with a floppy hat straight out of the twenties and a grey moustache to match.

“Jim Bones, out of Buffalo.” I said easily, flashing him my glamoured badge. He slid his tablet into a deep coat pocket and started to rub the ring on his middle finger with his pointer finger aimed at my wallet. My new badge started to get warm, and then the glamour simply disappeared.

“That’s inconvenient.” I said as I pushed my wallet back into my pocket. Some of the things made in Skye were so annoyingly useful. The man pushed his glasses up further on his nose and looked me up and down.

“Any other lies you want to try before I call the boys outside?” He asked easily. I didn’t feel so much like the kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar as the kid trying to sneak a dog an extra biscuit. It was the man’s strange, utterly calm demeanor.

“How about a handful of truth.” The Detective said as he pulled out a cigarette packet and lighter. 

“You’re not exactly a civilian if you have any interest in this fuckup. Name and serial number maybe?” The man tossed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it seemingly out of habit more than anything else. As I watched him take a drag, I wished I still smoked.

“My name really is Jim Bones.” I said as I looked towards the front door, counting how many steps the cops would have to take to get to me.

“And?” He blew out a lungful of putrid smoke. To me it smelled divine. I sighed and figured it was probably best to just go with the flow.

 

“And, The Unseelie Queen has a pointed interest in these cases.” I decided leaving things vague might be the best bet for the both of us. He growled low in his throat, a sound like a mudslide over rocky ground, and looked back at the Fae woman in what was left of her night gown. I couldn’t tell if she had an amazing tan or naturally dark skin, but it was obviously drained of its natural color now. The few pictures in the room showed a woman in the bloom of life, despite her probably advanced years, nothing like what laid on the bed before us.

“Every time someone mentions the Courts to me I get months of work in two or three days’ time.” He grumbled to himself unintelligibly for a few more moments before pulling his tablet back out.

“What’s your name?” I asked as I leaned down slightly to get a better look at the wound without getting to close to the body.

“Who’s asking?” The Detective shot out quickly. I stood back up at him, feeling an odd tension build up.

“You?” He pointed his cigarette at me.

“The better part of hired muscle? An Unseelie dog looking for some meat. One of Oona’s junkies? Another mage looking for glory? A concerned citizen? A soldier looking for work?” He spit on the floor when he was done with his fatalistic tirade. I couldn’t blame him for mistrusting me out of hand. The Unseelie Court weren’t exactly well liked in Skye.

“Just because I cash her checks doesn’t mean I share any particular ideology.” I started to say. The Detective moved to interrupt.

“That said!” I raised my voice a little. “I am just a hired gun. A hired gun with his own head on the line if he screws this job up.” I took a measured step closer to the grizzled officer.

“I think that makes me a concerned citizen this time around?” I asked with a bit of a smile. The Detective nodded reluctantly, pushed the cigarette into his mouth, and offered me a hand. I took it, and was completely unready for the vigorously firm handshake. He let go of me after a few seconds of squishing my hand and looked back at the horror show in front of us.

“Detective Truman Jefferson Abraham.” The Detective said as he tapped a bit of ash onto the carpet, garnering him a hate filled glare from one of the crime scene techs. I felt a smile tug my cheeks.

“Ever think of running for president?” I asked jokingly.

“Did you know impersonating an officer is a federal crime?” He retorted quickly.

“Fair enough.” I replied and followed his gaze to the bed. Even though I’d seen death up close on hundreds of occasions, seeing it this close to a still life was distressing to say the least.

“Did the other three have the same wounds?” I asked, unintentionally poking myself in the chest. Abraham nodded and showed me a trio of pictures on his tablet. Three Fae woman, all splayed out in the same general position with three holes in their chest. By law of nature alone most spells would have stopped at the third body. This was something else.

“Is there anything left at the crime scenes that can be tracked?” I asked, thinking of one associate in particular. Abraham whistled, very loudly, at one of the techs and pointed to one of the jars on the bedside counter. The tech tossed it to him and the Detective gave it to me. Inside the little glass jar was a sliver of wood about as long as my thumb.

“This is from the wound?” I asked, trying to think about what kind of wood could do that much damage on contact. Ash, yew, birch, ironwood, and various types of thorn sprouting vines could do damage to a great variety of Fae, but none of them tended to look so white.

“Yeah, but our mages can’t seem to track it to anything that makes sense.” Abraham wiped what was left of cigarette against the bottom of his loafer and tossed it into the waste bin beside a dresser.

“You might have resources don’t.” The Detective smiled. I nodded my head and thank Detective Abraham.

I’m off to see the Wizard.

 

 

 

Chapter 5

 

Mages, the gender neutral term for witches and wizards, were generally a people phobic sort. Obviously there were a double handful that didn’t mind standing in a crowd rather than lighting it on fire, like Mab, but the exception wasn’t the norm. It didn’t help that, as far as I had been told, all mages power was derived psychically, potentially making them powerful clairvoyants. I pulled into a nice little suburban house, just outside the heavier noises of the city. My magical friend lived inside selling charms, spells, and finding lost items. It seemed to be a nice little business for him, bringing in good money and keeping him busy.

 

I stepped out of my car and looked at the escalade that usually wasn’t in the driveway. Inside were three hastily dressed little girls in car seats. Each of them waved to me in turn. Not really knowing how to respond, I waved back with a haphazard smile. I made a hasty escape and knocked on the front door of Luther Reisert’s house and business. After a few minutes out in the howling wind the door opened wide.

“Hey, Jim.” I gangly man with a thick head of black curls and a bushy beard wearing blue and black sweats said as he surprised me with a bear hug that felt much bigger than his actual size. I was certainly friendly with Luther, he was one of few people who actually knew where I lived, but hugging is generally off the table to everyone. I bit my lip and gave him two awkward pats on the back.

“Hey, Luther.” I managed to sputter as he let go of me.

“Come on in. I got to finish something up real quick.” Reisert said as he back pedaled into what should have been a living room. Now it was simply a warmly lit waiting room with three couches and end tables covered with old magazines.

“How’s Tris doing?” Luther asked just before he ducked into his office.

“Not sure, I haven’t seen her since I got into town.” I said mournfully. Luther made a disappointed sound and vanished behind his office wall. I sighed and made my way around one of the old couches. The only good thing about having three old couches is that one of them is bound to be comfy. I grabbed one of the random magazines littered on the coffee table after choosing a couch and opened it to a random page. Inside was an advertisement for iron scissors, enclosed in gender specific pink or blue plastic, to ‘ward off fairies and keep your babies from becoming changelings’. Just as I was about to close the magazine and set it back on the low table I heard something next to me. I threw the magazine at the arm of the couch, where the sound was coming from, and shot up as I pulled my gun.

“Quit throwing magazines, asshole!” Shouted a voice that only qualified as female because of its pitch. Where the magazine had bounced off now stood a three foot red imp. I let out a deep sigh and holstered my pistol.

“You really have to cut that shit out, Gabby.” I said as I threw myself back down on the couch. Gabby stretched out her leathery red wings and leaned back on the couch herself.

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to notice me and, boy, I’m mighty disappointed.” Gabby said as she pulled a flab of skin away from her stomach, much like a kangaroo, and reached in to pull out a pack of cigarettes. Gabby was something of a familiar to Luther. He somehow managed to summon a greater demon, Gabby, and bind her in the form of a grubby little imp.

“Want one?” Gabby offered me the paper package after she pulled a killing stick out of it with her thick purple lips. I rejected out of hand. Gabby dumped the Cigarettes back into her marsupial like pouch, brought the tip of the cigarette up to her nose, and sneeze out a small burst of flame. As soon as she blew out a cloud of smoke I knew I had to have one. She smiled at me as I held my hand out to her. I took the cancer stick from her scabrous claws and set it in my mouth. I hadn’t smoked since before I met Oona, and this would be the first cigarette I had since I’d seen her again. The smoke filled my lungs just the same and burned my throat on its way out.

“One small step for man.” Gabby said with a small clap as she pulled a small plastic airplane bottle of whiskey from her pouch and downed it like a shot glass. I gave her a sidelong glance and took another long drag of my first cigarette in too long.

“What’s that mean?” I asked, tapping some ash into an ashtray Luther had set up for customers. Although it was probably for Gabby more than anyone else.

“My lungs are superfluous flaps of skin.” Gabby emphasized her point by slapping her mildly grotesque and hairy red boob.

“Yours are just waiting for the right stimuli to fall to pieces.” She scratched a raw piece of flesh as I stared at my half smoked cigarette. I was no stranger to drugs, not by a long shot, but a sucker punch from Gabby was unexpected. When I turned back to Gabby she had another airplane bottle in her hand.

“Salud” Gabby toasted before downing the bottle and drawing a veil over herself. I stared at the blank space where she sat when Luther and a harried looking middle aged man walked into the room.

 

“I swear that your dog will be right where compass is pointing and the spot on the map is.” Luther consoled the man as he rushed him out the door.

“Thank you so much, Sir.” The man said happily. “You don’t know what you’ve saved me from.” He said as he opened the front door. Luther smiled brightly.

“Don’t thank me sir, just get your dog chipped, it is much cheaper than hiring me.” Luther all but slammed the door in the man’s face before shaking himself like someone dumped an ice cube down his shirt.

“I hate tracking dogs!” Luther shouted at his ceiling.

“All I smell is wet dog for weeks on end.” He complained loudly as I rubbed the butt out in the ashtray. He gave my hand a pointed look.

“You still on the wagon?” Luther asked pointedly, his lighthearted demeanor nearly gone in an instant. I hadn’t told Luther everything about myself, but he was smart enough to fill in a few blanks.

“Rough day” I said with a shrug as I walked away from the couches.

“Besides, ones pilfered cigarette from your cryptic creature doesn’t mean I’m going on a bender.” I said as I adjusted my cuffs. Luther nodded his head from side to side before looking directly at where Gabby had veiled herself.

“You behaved yourself relatively well when that man was here, you can have two red bulls.” Luther said with a wave towards his kitchen. There was a keening sound followed by gabby dropping her veil and leaping over the couches towards her target. I gave Luther a confused look.

“Didn’t she rob the convenience store down the road a couple weeks ago?” Luther shrugged nonchalantly and walked into his office. I ignored the sounds coming from the kitchen and followed behind him. Luther’s office was a relatively simple affair with bookshelves lining all but the right window, which was dominated by a cushioned seat. He had a large wooden desk covered in various scribbled in the middle of the room and another one with a large computer beside the window. I was just glad it wasn’t one of those creepy brain in a jar or a jack in wetware interfaces. 

Mages that I’ve seen usually avoid cybernetic or bio-genetic augmentation due to it throwing off their delicate internal balances. I wouldn’t know anything about that, but I did have mandatory cell clock grafted onto the underside of my wrist when I was in the service. It was useful, but not really my style. It’s not enough that there is literal magic in the air anymore. People need to have Bluetooth cochlear implants, magnetic fingertips, the Library of Congress coded into their DNA, 900 terabytes of quarts storage implanted in their skull, designer organs, Synthetic limbs, and my personal favorite, interchangeable sex organs. I looked at Luther sitting down in his beaten up old swivel chair. He may be a few hairs short of a schizophrenic with a defeatist thieving imp for a familiar, but he had real power. I could spend all the money I made from the Court, which was arguably quite a bit, on augments and not even have a fraction of his power. That isn’t even mentioning that Luther, by his own admission, was a third rate mage at best.

“What’s that look for?” Luther said with a worried look on his face. I scratched where the cell clock had once been and sat down across from him.

“Nothing really,” I lied easily. 

“Just thinking about how far over my head I am.” It was true too. Killing something in Skye was one thing, protecting someone was another. I had little spots of property all over the city, but none of them were able to be used to stash someone, alive, for more than a few hours at a time.

“What are you hunting? Another one of the Asian thunder deities? There are more of those than there are pimples on Gabby’s ass” Luther said with a chortle. Gabby chose that moment to walk in and sit in the chair next to me.

“I heard that.” She said discontentedly. 

“So.” Luther fired back.

“I digress…” I interrupted them. 

 

“I’m gumshoeing a string of murders to find my target and protecting Fin Bheara’s Consort.” I explained as Gabby downed what was left of her red bull and started to loudly scratch her behind. Luther started to scratch his beard.

“This wouldn’t happen to be the pregnant human consort would it?” He asked with a little too much interest for my taste.

“Yeah.” I said slowly.

“Welp,” Luther leaned back in his chair. 

“You’re fucked.”

“How so?” I asked hurriedly.

“Ms. Ulster, if I’m remembering her name right, is pregnant with Fin Bheara’s child. By default, that makes her heir apparent. If Oona dies, she is queen. If Ms. Ulster dies, meaning you failed your duty, you are directly responsible for the death of the third most important person in the Unseelie Court.” Luther explained very slowly for my fear shriveled brain.

“Would you mind if I threw up?” I asked as my stomach started doing hula hoops.

“Very much so.” Luther replied matter of factly. I took a few deep breaths until I felt myself calm down. I banished all thought of Oona torturing her subjects to death, and pushed aside more of live cats and shop vacs. Once my mind was back on a professional track I pulled the heavy glass container out of my suit pocket.

“Crime scene techs pulled this out of one of the last victim’s wounds.” I said as I set the jar onto his desk.

“The Detective said his mages couldn’t get a good tracking spell out of it. I figured you might have better luck.” I said with a smile. Luther nodded back, his ego properly stoked. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a map of Skye to lay out. Once it covered all of his scribbles he pulled on a blue plastic glove and extracted the sliver. As soon as Luther’s hand touched the sliver he doubled over as if he had been punched.

“You okay?” I asked, standing up and putting an arm on his shoulder. Luther made a small accenting sound.

“That bit of wood is filled with a lot of hate.” Gabby filled in for Luther. 

“Anyone with a bit of power who touches that is bound to get a bit of a shock.” Gabby tossed her can into the corner of the room, completely ignoring the bin right next to her, and jumped onto the desk. Once she was on there she pushed my hand away and grabbed Luther’s arm. It took a second, but he perked back up and stared at the little sliver of wood.

“That is one nasty piece of work.” Luther said breathlessly.

“Nice thank you, douche nugget.” Gabby said as she went back to her seat with a few short hops.

“Thank you, Gabby.” Luther said with a slight eye roll

“I know a guy out past where Rochester was if you want to back off of this, Luther.” I said before he could even think of getting back to business. He smiled at me.

“Please. Do you know how hard it is to keep Gabby in whiskey and cigars?” He dumped the sliver on the map and shushed my hands off the table.

“Just don’t forget my account number.” Luther said before he started a low growling chant in the back of his throat. From what little I know, magic is all in the mind. If a mage wants, their spell can use long incantations or words, or it can just be a simple flash. Luther needs a little time to prepare things, so he prefers his earth shaking groan. The entire room started to vibrate gently as Luther stared at the sliver of wood. The hair on my arms and neck stood on end just before the sliver jumped up to its point and slid across the map. After Luther growled angrily at it for a few more seconds it continued to spin in place like a quarter. After more than ten minutes of the same game I was starting to worry about Luther’s throat.

“Huh.” Luther said after simply stopping his angry sound. I looked from the map to his red face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking sideway at the map, trying to get a bearing on where the sliver of wood stopped.

“The tracking worked just fine, but…” Luther scratched his head in confusion.

“But?” I asked as I looked up at him.

“It’s pointing right at Maeve’s tree.” Gabby said as she hopped up onto the table and pointed a yellowed claw at the map. The roads, highways, and alleys finally clicked in my head as I looked at the sheaf of paper. 

“Is that even a possibility?” Luther asked me as he scooped the sliver back into the glass jar with a random business card. I shook my head no.

“It’s not probable but, like with anything concerning the Fae, it’s possible.” I swore under my breath and grabbed the specimen jar from Luther’s desk.

“Thanks, man. I’ll have the money in your account soon.” I said as I started walking out. He said the regular good byes, but my mind was miles away.

Two Queens in one day. It had to be a record.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

I pushed my coins into another exorbitantly priced meter and looked down the road. The Seelie Court almost exclusively lived and worked out of a massive tree that made the one in Avatar look like a Lego toy. I looked straight up from the roots and saw nothing but the lowest bough. All around the bottom was an intricate financial and government complex that was directly linked into any miniscule decision the judges of the Seelie Court made.

I hopped around a couple of Gentry playing with some papers and made my way into a small high class diner. It’d been awhile since my slapdash breakfast and I could use some food, and some time to think. As soon as I opened the glass door I felt underdressed in my thousands of dollars of clothing. Inside were a double handful of the all-female Seelie Gentry in smart suits and slinky dresses next to congressmen and lobbyist, congressmen, and fortune 500’s wearing their earnings on their shoulders. I smiled anyways. There was a good chance I was the only one who was at least fifty percent bullet proof.

A comely waiter sat me down across from a few Seelie Gentry nose deep in papers and handed me a menu. Even though I’d eaten at the restaurant before, I was still surprised at the prices. I sighed and ordered a nice noodle soup with farm grown chicken. It was nice to know my meat had actually walked at one point rather than being grown in vats. Once my food was in front of me I was able to concentrate on eating and thinking.

First and foremost, whoever was finding the pregnant Fae had some kind of system. Fae pregnancies are all kinds of weird, requiring nothing that a regular pregnancy would. That means no weekly or monthly checkups, no pre-natal medication, no funny donut pillow, usually not even random craving foods or creams to rub on the mother’s belly. So the killer, or killers as far as I knew, had another way of doing it. Judging by the weapon, and the fact that they killed Gentry like they were normal women, it had to be magical in nature.

“We are running out of oil!” A man with a very heavy eastern European accent shouted near the back of the restaurant. I looked up from my soup to see a tall man, maybe mid-forties, wearing a very expensive suit and watch throw his food off the table as he stood. One of the Gentry, a beauty in a green suit stood, about a foot taller than him, and pointed a thin finger at him.

“Then get on board with everyone else and use renewable sources.” She said sternly. The man was visibly shaking with rage.

“You have more than enough time, money, and oil, to last you until you can get solar, wind, and hydrogen plants up and running in three years.” She set her hand on the table and leaned closer as she spoke.

“If the Saudi princes can do it so can you, comrade.” She finished with a verbal flourish. The man shouted something in a language I didn’t recognize and pulled a short blade. The elf punched her hand through the back of his chest before the blade had a chance to catch the light fully. So falls the Russian Empire. 

I rudely slurped down the rest of my soup, payed my bill, and got the hell out of dodge before the cops showed up. The Seelie Court may be the ‘good’ guys when it comes to the Fae, but they are still about as human as an axolotl that can breathe bleach. I slipped in some slush once I got outside and grabbed onto a nearby pole. That was when I got a really good look at what was up and down the street. Up one side was embassies for every nation that had two syllables to rub together and the other side of the street was filled with stock brokers, lobbyists, high class businessmen, and all the things those men needed. Not everyone liked when the Fae popped up out of nowhere, but it changed things. The Seelie Court using the United States, sans the Fae Free State of Texas, as a puppet government controlled the world with the fear of retribution. Other nations cowed to the U.S’s every whim, unsure what the alien creatures from another realm were capable of. Everyone knew that the Unseelie Court were a pack of wild dogs that lashed out at whatever fingers got put inside their cage, but every punch the Seelie Court threw was brutally calculated.

I quit wasting my time and walked towards the nearest opening set into a giant root. If I was being honest it looked like a gaping butthole in a giant beehive with fairy lights dancing around near the top. Once I was under the overhang it got quite a bit warmer. I looked around for someone who didn’t seem to be running around on the damp moss. It took a few minutes but I finally found a very tall female elf in a white gown playing a game on her cellphone. I stood there for a few silent minutes, just staring quietly at her, to be polite.

“Miss?” I asked quietly. She quickly raised one hand and made a motion for me to shut my mouth. There was a look of intense look of concentration on her face as she stared at her phone. After a few more seconds of staring she pressed a button with her thumb, only to have the screen go blank. Her eyes went hard, and that was the look she turned on me.

Be a man. Be a man. Be a man. Be a man.

“Why do you have to be so tall?” Why did I say that out loud? She gave me a cross-eyed look of utter confusion.

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be here?” She asked slowly, like you might when you find a small child in the supermarket. I cleared my throat and stood up straight.

 

“I apologize, Madame. I am Jim Bones, representative of the Unseelie Court. I would request to speak to The Lady of Air and Light about a potential breach of the Accords.” I said formally as I held my slightly shaking hand out to the elf. She looked at it disdainfully, now knowing that I was associated with the unclean, but took it to verify my association. I couldn’t quite feel that miniscule amount of power, but other Fae could differentiate Courts by touch, if not sight. Once she let go of my hand, quite quickly, she poked her phone a few times.

“I’ve got a heavy one in tube two requesting a meet with lightbulb.” She looked me up and down; I gave her a big smile.

“He might be light in the loafers, but looks clean.” The elf said into her phone slowly. I watched her quietly as she nodded and made ‘uh-huh’ noises. In the end The Gentry member let out a deep sigh and hung up her phone before motioning for me to follow her.

“I’ll have you know, I wear equal opportunity loafers” I said over the din of the crowd. She turned her head over her shoulder, not slowing her long strides.

“Get back to me when you play naked twister with a leprechaun, a Minotaur, and marut.” She said casually before turning a corner. I had to stop for a second just try and work out the physical logistics of such an endeavor. After catching up we were in nothing more than a long hallway made of nothing more than gnarled wood with something akin to portholes for windows. I pulled my suit jacket closer for warmth, wishing I’d worn something a little warmer. As we continued to walk, I noticed how truly alien the fae in front of me was. She was beautiful in every sense of the word. Tall, shapely, fine features, a short shock of flaxen hair, and a voice that went from clear as a bell to atom bomb in two seconds flat. What’s not to love? As I watched her, I noticed that she had this odd shimmy in how she walked. I’ve never actually watched Fae walk for a long period of time. They’ve always walked a short distance, been sprinting from cover to cover, had very strange limbs, or been sitting still. Most women sway a little by the shape of nature, but not her. She just…existed.

“Turn here.” She said plainly with a left turn, breaking my train of thought. I followed her into what, at first, looked like a strange library filled with meats. It took me a few seconds to see it for a server farm. The temperature somehow dropped another ten degrees as she led me into the brightly lit white room filled with steel towers. Inside each tower were a stacks of programmable DNA, solidified into a meat square, chilled and hooked up to data spikes. There were hundreds of them filling just this one small room. How many more could be stuffed inside a tree as big as the Seelie Court’s?

“Excuse me, please.” A hollow voice said of to my left. A furry brownie, half of a brownie, on a repulsor plater with service arms hanging off of the bottom scooted around the elf and I.

“Thank you.” It had so many bits of synthetics and cyberware screwed into it there was barely any brown fur left. The poor thing should be burning to ectoplasm from the touch of iron. I moved over to one of the servers and pulled down a panel to do some minor repairs with the arms attached to the platter. I felt queasy as the elf gave me a small motion to leave the room. Once we were both out, and the door was closed, I asked a rather appropriate question.

“What the hell was that?” I nearly shouted.

“Strictly speaking it was a server room and a technician.” She said with airs. Just before I lost my shit she continued to speak.

“To answer your question, however, it was a point Maeve wanted to prove before you spoke to her.” She stopped talking pointedly. What point? I looked back at the door. There were Exabyte’s, maybe even zettabyte’s, worth of data in there running the world, all in the care of a brownie who should be in some kind of medical journal.

“Is there another server room like that?” I asked quietly, still not sure if my hamster was running on the right wheel. The elf shook her head no. I stared at the wooden door a little door a little harder, thinking of the poor Faerys’ hair trying to grow over exposed wire, and how personal I needed to take this point. That poor, infinitely polite, creature, had the entire world in his barely function hands. Impersonally, it says that the Seelie Queen will do anything for the life of her subjects and trusts them implicitly. Personally, despite my past, I had to man up and take care of something much bigger than I thought.

“I think I’m ready to see her now.” I said as I looked away from the door. She reached into her robe and pulled out a small butterscotch candy in a yellow wrapper.

 

“Want one?” She asked easily. I waved it off with a polite smile. I’d read enough of the old romances and theatrics to know the dangers of accepting food and drink without a lawyer present.

“Suit yourself.” She said before plopping it in her mouth and leaning against the curved wall.

“So what do you want?” She asked casually. I stared at her blankly. It took a second, but eventually my overworked hamster switched gears.

“So, Lightbulb, you work as a greeter and play games on your phone?” I said with a mild hint of disapproval and a very deep bow. She smiled at me and pulled out another candy as I stood back up. This one I took.

“There are a great deal of things happening in Africa right now. We are inches away from a treaty.” The Queen said through clenched teeth. I nodded in agreement, the information meaning very little to me. The only words that meant anything to me on the news were ‘lake effect snow’.

“Doesn’t exactly explain why you are in the lobby of the most influential building in the world.” I said as I unwrapped the candy and popped the sweet in my mouth. Queen Maeve gave me a hard look with her green eyes.

“You still haven’t explained why you are in the heart of the most influential building in the world, standing across from the Judge of judges, the Queen of Air and Light.” Maeve said with lightning in her voice. My testicles have officially retreated to safer territory in the belly button region.

“You know exactly why I am here.” I said with feigned confidence, as I underhanded the specimen jar to her. Never show a predator your back. She caught it with three fingers and stared at the little sliver of wood.

“How is Glabrezu?” Maeve asked as an aside while she opened the container.

“Bitchy and bored.” I said, assuming she meant Gabby. The Queen pulled the sliver out, took a quick look at it, put it back in the jar, and tossed it back to me.

“It’s my tree, but not the work of my people.” She said with the shake of her head. I stuffed the jar back into my pocket.

“Any chance any of the victims crossed your path?”

“I don’t associate with the Unseelie, It’s unseemly.” She said with a small smile. I chortled a little nodded my head.

“The Accords are being broken, but there is nothing anyone can do, is there?” I asked, looking Maeve right in the eyes. I was afraid to look 

Oona in the eyes, Maeve was different though. She looked like someone you would take to dinner and a movie for a date, Oona was the woman who hit you in the back of the head with a bat and dragged you to a doctor to sell your kidneys.

“The Accords aren’t the concern of humans.” She said with the shake of her head.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” I swore at her. Maeve stood up a little straighter, her eyes narrowing at me.

“Watch your tone.” Light seemed to be dragged in around her shoulders, making the hallway darker.

“Maybe you should watch what you say.” I took one, carefully measured, step closer.

“Law one, do no harm to man that he did not invite upon himself. If that doesn’t concern humans I don’t know what does.” I inched another step closer.

“Law two, do not subjugate the powers of others without their consent.” I felt a laugh boil up as I said that.

“You Seelie Fae play pretty fast and loose with that one, but it pays to know the judge.” I said with a smirk. The smirk was quickly wiped off my face when The Queen slapped me, sending flying a few feet down the hallway. Once my head stopped spinning, my poor hamster, I spit a small puddle of blood onto the floor and looked up to see a seething god over my head. She could have killed me just as easily as sent me down the hall.

“Law three, do not premeditate the death of another Fae.” I tried to push myself up, only to fall over again. I swore and let my head fall back staring at the ceiling for a second.

“The point is, Queen Maeve, Is that you seem to know something big is going down, and are saying fuck all.” I said through a slowly swelling mouth. When she didn’t say anything I propped myself up on an elbow.

She was gone.

 

Chapter 7

 

I spit out the gum I picked up from an ethanol & charge station on the way back towards the Golden Crown. My jaw felt like I’d gotten smacked with a shovel, so I thought giving it a good stretch would help. 

I put my free hand on my jaw and decided I was very wrong. One way or another, the drive home was relatively painless. It was just late enough that traffic congestion was giving way to mild indigestion. 

Once I was in my parking space I turned off the car and just sat there. I had been up for way too long. My vision was starting to get blurry, my hands were shaky, and the air was starting to smell like chalk.

“Just wait, folks, there’s more!” I said in my best announcer as I bounced out of my car.

“If you are a pregnant Fae and sign up before midnight tonight, you can be murdered brutally in the morning. For free!” I pointed to a few people going into the Crown with a smile on my face.

“And guess who gets left holding the bag?” I asked my car sarcastically

“That’s right! The headless asshole!” I shouted triumphantly with derision as I started towards the door.

“You’re gonna’ be headless in a second, dope head!” Shelly shouted as she pointed a double barreled shotgun older than the both of us at my head from the front of the bar.

“Hi, Shelly.” I said with a slow wave. Shelly tilted her head, obviously confused.

“Bones? Are you drunk?” She asked seriously.

“Not yet.” I answered just as seriously.

“Some of the customers said someone was outside shouting about killing people like a gameshow host.” She looked around behind her, I mirrored the action.

“Must’ve run off.” I said as I scooted around her and slid into a stool inside the bar. I surveyed the mostly twenty-something crowd drinking fruity drinks and deemed them unworthy of my paranoia at the moment. Shelly set her shotgun in front of me before walking around behind the bar and retrieving it. Her dad’s first hunting shotgun, which was her grandfathers first as well, had a special place under the bar. The parts were mostly original, but there was a great deal of Loctite holding it together.

“How did your day go?” Shelly asked as she gave me a beer. My wagon doesn’t allow cigarettes, but beer in moderation is totally allowed.

“Probably about as well as my face looks.” I said as I twisted the cap off my beer and took a long pull. Shelly leaned in slightly before giving me a pained look.

 

“That looks a bit like a handprint.” I wasn’t sure if she asked a question or made a statement, so I simply nodded.

“It might be one of those, the less you know the better, things.” I said with a sigh as I cracked my knuckles on the bar.

“Where’s Mab?” I asked as I drained the beer down to its halfway point. Shelly through a thumb over her shoulder as she produced a cloth from nowhere and wiped down where my beer had been sitting.

“I saw your fridge,” She said accusingly. 

“So I ordered her some pizza and set her up in the guest room.” I smiled at her, gently grabbed the back of her head, and gave her a slow head-butt. She grabbed the back of my head and held me there for just a second longer. My dad had never been very touch feely, but her dad was. He gave me one of my first hugs in years, and when a hug was too much, a little head-butt. Apparently he and Shelly had shared the same thing.

“You smell really bad.” Shelly said as she pushed off of me with a laugh. I snorted and leaned back as far as the stool would allow.

“I’ve been out of town and living in my car for nearly a week.” I explained with my arms out wide. Shelly waved me away as I stood up and opened the gate to my stairs. 

It felt good to be walking back up to my home, small though it may be. I thumbed the keypad and enjoyed exactly how small it was. The whole apartment was an L shape, with the living room entrance being the bottom. The kitchen was built into the wall on the left wall, the bathroom, bedrooms, and my armory were all along the spine of the L. The lights were on and Mab was curled up on an old couch I got in a yard sale. I killed the overhead lights and kept the multi-colored Christmas lights I had strung year round on.

First order of business. Shower. I walked into the bathroom and started pulling out my wallet and keys until I caught my reflection in the mirror. The entire right side of my face was swollen like an overripe grape. Not to mention the horrible dark purple and black colors. I worked my jaw a bit more and decided I would skip shaving my new beard for a day or two. I got my jacket and vest off with no problems, but my shirt had to be thrown away. At one point or another my wounds from the Yara-Ma-Ya-Who started seeping, leaving the shirt more or less ruined. Once I was in the shower I remembered I had the super glued wound on my head, and had a joyous time peeling that off.

Once I was out of the shower I had a long look at my electric razor anyways. My girlfriend got it for me because she didn’t like the way the silver straight razor I used made her skin tingle. I put that thought on the back burner and pulled on a pair of jogging pants and a house shirt before heading towards my room. Military life had made my life a rather Spartan affair, leaving pictures of Triss and the Bright family as the only adornments to my room. That and a few hidden weapons. I dropped onto my bed like a dead lump and was asleep before my eyes closed.

 

“You get any sleep Sergeant.” Private Caxot asked as I pushed open the rest stop bathroom door. The gas station had been abandoned long before the war started, making it the perfect place for the RPG team we had tied up in the stalls. I clapped the private on his armored shoulder and gave him a slight nod. I had two more privates under me, Freeheim, and Shoemaker. We were all bumped down for these missions for plausible deniability. I looked at the three closed stalls before looking at the other two privates at by the sinks.

“Either of them doing anything more than mumble?” I asked as I wiped sand off my chest rig and set my rifle against the wall. Both of them shook their head.

“Pick a number between one and ten.” I said loudly enough for the three behind the stall doors to hear me. Four days I’d been doing this. Four days of getting the same gurgling sounds through their gags. It was funny to the men the first time. Now they realized it was another way to break the prisoners. I pointed to a door at random and they pulled out a boy, sixteen at the latest, in cobbled together armor. I left the armor on him for my sake more than his.

“We’ve played this game once already.” I said as I kneeled down next to him. His eyes welled up with tears as I pulled the cloth gag around his neck. I held my hand out to Shoemaker and he tossed me a bottle of water, which I helped the boy greedily down. Another twofold action.

“It’s really simple kid.” I said as I handed my Private back the bottle.

“You tell me where the ammo dump is, I call in my boys, and you go north as a POW safe and happy.” I said calmly. The kid shook his blonde head vehemently.

“I won’t go north with those fairies.” I found it strange that he was missing the trademark southern accent. He spit into a pile of sand that had accumulated near his sneakers.

“I’m not a big fan of them either, but I still need to know about that ammo dump.” I said slowly, looking into the kids sad eyes.

“It’s not just them. Those machines are unclean!” he swore at me. I reached out and slapped the kid. It wasn’t the first time I hit him, but it was the first time I meant it. I lean in close to his ear as he sputtered.

“Listen very closely, kid.” I whispered so my men couldn’t hear

“We’re only on the 34th parallel for two more days. That mean two of you are dying today and one of you is telling me what I need. I would be a hell of a lot more comfortable if I wasn’t torturing a kid your age to death.” I let go of the kid and backed away from his as I pulled out a thin knife.

“Well, then, I hope I haunt your memories.” I wasn’t sure who screamed louder when I pulled my knife and jammed it into his shoulder.

 

“Bones!” I heard someone shouting beside me.

“Bones!” I heard one more time before I was lifted of the bed and hit my closet with a thud. Texas was gone. The kid I tore to pieces a memory again. I looked around and saw Mab beside my bed with a shielding spell held in place.

“You okay?” I asked as I tried to get my bearings.

“Maybe you should just lay there a minute?” She said slowly. I rubbed my ringing ears and looked around.

“Why?” I asked as I finally got to my feet. She pointed to my bedroom door. It had three perfect holes in it. Two in the chest. One in the head. I looked down and saw a pistol in my hand.

“Yeah,” I started sheepishly. “That happens sometimes. I’ve got some plaster under the sink and the whole apartment is sound and bulletproofed, so Shelly is okay.” I said as I cleared the pistol and tossed it in my nightstand. Mab let down her shield and gave me a dumbfounded look.

“What about me!” She said crossly.

“You were supposed to lock yourself in the spare bedroom anyways.” I said in exasperation.

“Cause that’s a great way to deal with your problems.” Mab shouted snappishly. I threw up my hands slowly and nodded my head.

“I have a system.” I conceded. “It’s just not here at the moment.”

“Do you lock yourself up like a werewolf when you go to sleep?” She crossed her arms over her chest to illustrate.

“It’s complicated.” It would be hard to explain in an hour during the day, let alone two minutes in the middle of the night.

“I need to get out of here.” Mab said as she stormed from the room.

“You can’t leave!” I shouted after her, my feet following my voice. When I turned the corner she had already changed from a comfortable looking sweater set to some abominable combination of 90’s Goth and 00’s Neo-punk.

“You can’t leave, wearing that.” I quickly amended my statement. The silvery slacks I could deal with. Everything else, not so much.

“You’re cute and all, Bones, but you’re not going to tie this pregnant woman to a chair.” Mab said saucily. She had me beat. I swore a few times for good measure.

“Let me get dressed.”

 

Chapter 8

 

After flatly refusing to let Mab drive, and arguing about the decision in the cold for nearly half an hour, she designated herself official navigator. I liked to think of her as the world’s worst backseat driver instead.

“Take the next right and keep going until I recognize the turn.” Mab said as she scanned the road signs. I looked across the seat at her.

“You don’t know the name of the road I’m supposed to turn on?” I asked incredulously. She shrugged at me.

“I know what the roads and buildings look like right up to the turn and how to get to the building after the turn. I think that is sufficient” Mab said tersely. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and stared out into 

the dark. I had maybe three hours of not so peaceful sleep before Mab woke me up, meaning I still needed a nap.

“Where are we going anyways?” I asked with a yawn. Mab pointed to some clouds off in the distance.

“Do you see those clouds with the lights on them?” I leaned down and tried to see what she was pointing at. Light pollution was a growing problem in Skye, so I just nodded yes.

“And I assume you’ve heard of the Fae making people dance with them all night long?” Mab asked with a wicked grin. I gave her as long a glance as I could while still keeping an eye on the road.

“Yeah.” I said hesitantly. This conversation was going somewhere that was making the little hamster in my head feel uncomfortable.

“This is a rave quietly run by the Seelie Court.” Mab said with a weird hand motion, her hands only missing glow sticks.

“Lush is an open secret, but Oona doesn’t let humans leave until they’re two steps short of a corpse.” Mab said with a girlish giggle. I swallowed hard, once again wondering who the hell I was protecting.

“Maeve closes this place every night at two, no exceptions.” Mab pouted slightly before pointing to the turn I was supposed to take.

“What’s your take on Maeve?” I asked as I followed her quickly moving finger. She seemed to chew that thought over for a moment.

“I met her once, just once, but she certainly made an impression.” Mab said seriously.

“She practically stormed into the Unseelie Court with a few guards and a bear of a man in a white suit. She and Oona were speaking in a language that I’m pretty sure no human ever could, but she looked at me.” Mab visibly shivered in her seat.

“That Fae is calculating and ruthless. Just like any other. To be Queen of the Seelie, though, she has to be able to dance around a truth without lying.” Mab shook her head and pointed to a massive collection of cars outside of a snow covered warehouse. I parked the car and gave Mab a serious look to get her attention.

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t trust anything she says?” I asked slowly. Mab snickered at me.

“When should you trust anything a Fae says?” Mab let out another small laugh and hopped out of the car. I sighed and followed behind her. The warehouse would look like a rather boring affair, locked, snowed in, and rusted, if it weren’t for the pounding music, lights, and literal steam pouring out of every seam of the building. I pulled my suit jacket a little closer as the cool wind started to blow.

“Where is the door?” I asked as we weaved around cars. Mab pointed to a receiving dock with a pair of men standing up where the semi-trucks would pull in. Someone had installed a set of wooden stairs for people to walk up. I was just glad they salted them as we ascended.

“Thirty apiece.” Said the closet man. He may have looked like he injected steroids for breakfast, lunch, diner, snack, and midnight munchies, but he was un-augmented. His buddy, on the other hand, had four artificial limbs grafted somewhere on his spine. His real hands were playing with cards while his skinless implants were adjusting his heavy jacket and passing a massive shotgun back and forth between them. That is a great deal of intimidation for sixty dollars. I forked over the money and the wall of muscle pushed open the heavy door for us.

The inside of the warehouse was a lot like Lush, just more. The people moved in waves of heat and light. The sound, controlled by a DJ hanging from a contraption hooked to the ceiling, rattled my teeth and retinas. I stood up on my toes for a second and saw that the ravers were literally dancing around old conveyor belts and tipped over filling cabinets. This was not the kind of place where I could protect Mab. Before I could tell her exactly that, she bounced her way into the crowd.

“Mab!” I swore as I pushed my way into the moving walls of people. Everywhere I looked people were dancing, yelling, screaming in joy, passing around little pills of pure happy, and, worst of all, obscuring my view. People swore at me as I pushed through the masses until I found Mab feeding a few bills to a man who set up a bar on a higher conveyor belt. She had a large clear bottle of liquor and was in the process of trying to pickle her liver.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I screamed at her.

“What?” She asked in surprise. She had to shout over the music, but her tone still conveyed that she didn’t understand. I pointed at her swollen stomach. She mad a pfft sound and started to bounce into the crowd, despite her twenty plus pounds of baby weight.

“I’m magic!” She shouted as she nearly disappeared from my sight again. I growled in the back of my throat and thought a few disingenuous things about Mab as I tracked her through the crowd. I stood a relatively safe distance away from Mab, surveying what I could as she flailed away like a madwoman. Even if I wanted to shoot a target in here, it’d be more likely to hit a civilian than anything else. I unconsciously felt up the two knives on the other side of my shoulder holster. One black with a high iron content and one white with a pure silver blade. Those would probably be my best bet in this mess.

“I’m going to hit the head.” I heard Mab shout to one of the girls she had been dancing with for the last hour or so. It felt nice to take proper steps instead of being the one immovable object in a sea of motion. Somehow Mab found a quiet hallway with two bathrooms across from one another. Stereotypically there was quite a line to get into the girls room. Mab queued up in the back of the line while I casually sidled up to the edge of the men’s room and leaned against the wall. I smiled at Mab as she danced in place, only to get an irritable look in return. I sighed and nodded towards the men’s room. She finally caught on and snuck in without any of the other women noticing.

“What a night.” I complained to myself with a sigh. My eyes were scratchy and probably beat red from the lack of sleep but, worst of all, I was really hungry. The noodles I had outside the Seelie Court tree were starting wear really thin…

“Bones!” I heard Mab shout just before there was a massive change in pressure, making my ears pop, and an explosion that blew the bathroom door open. The girls in front of me quickly dispersed as I pulled my gun and rushed into the men’s room. Mab was along the back tiled wall with everything else in front of her, stall, sinks, and tiles floor, looked like it hand been tiled by God. At my feet was a man in jeans, a hoodie, with a bulky bullet proof vest under his shirt, and a wooden stake next to his left hand. I kicked the weapon away and stomped him on the head to make sure he stuck around for a few minutes before rushing over the crumbled floor to Mab.

“You okay?” I asked as I checked her thready pulse. I peeled open her eyes as she moaned weakly to see her pupils blown out and whites almost completely red. I gave her a less than gentle smack on the face.

“Answer me.” I said before I checked her pulse again. It was starting to even out a little bit.

“I’ll be all right.” Mab said weakly. “He surprised me and I used too much at once.” She rubbed her face with a palm.

“I’ve barely got enough to keep my heart beating.” She complained more to herself than me. I looked behind me at what was left off the bathroom and was surprised the guy didn’t end up jelly.

“Stay here.” I said as I moved towards the man on the floor.

“Not going far.” She quipped weakly. The kid, he didn’t look too old, was just starting to squirm when I got close to him. I raised my left leg nice and high before slamming it right down onto his chest, probably cracking a few ribs at minimum. As he shouted in pain I saw pearly little fangs. I smiled and leaned down to tap him in the face with my pistol.

“I have a few question, Dracula.” He spit on my pants. The pants I just pulled out of the plastic less than four hours ago. I lowered my pistol and put a round in his kidney. He was a vampire, he could handle it.

“Don’t be crude.” I said over his screams. It took him a minute to settle down. As he tried to push on my leg I noticed a significant lack of power. I had good leverage, but I should have had to fight a little bit against average vampire strength. Then I noticed his skin was burned a bright red. It must have been from Mab.

“Who sent you?” I asked politely. He growled and looked at the destroyed urinals, still spewing water onto the floor. He didn’t have a family brand. I grabbed his head with my free hand and checked the other side.

“You don’t have a brand, so again, who sent you?” When he didn’t answer I lowered my pistol.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He shouted just before I shot him in the liver.

“The Messiah of the New Dawn sent us!” He shouted as I raised the pistol back to his head.

Us.

“Mab, Get next to the urinals.” I pointed with my gun. If someone came in she wouldn’t be in the direct line of fire.

“How many?” I asked, staring into his scared blue eyes. He sucked his lips in like a guilty child. A round into his liver certainly opened his mouth.

“How many?” I shouted over the screams. The vampire thrashed under my shoes, clutching his stomach uselessly.

“One heavy and five others.” He wheezed between heaving breathes. I did him a, slight, kindness and kicked him in the head until he passed out. Technically any head injury that knocks you out counts as massive head trauma, but it would give his vampiric body time to heal. I looked at my pistol and wished I brought something a little bigger.

“You shouldn’t be drinking.” I said as I snatched what was left of Mab’s bottle from her hand and stuffed my handkerchief into the mouth. After upending it a few times I pulled a bic lighter and lit the cloth.

“What are you doing?” Mab asked quietly as I pointed my pistol as the cockeyed bathroom door, the only sound between us being the dull thud of the music and the water of the destroyed urinals.

“Waiting.” I whispered. No sooner had I said that than did two men burst into the room with rifles raised. I emptied my magazine into both of them, not killing either of them due to their vests, but putting them on the ground. Once they were down I threw my improvised cocktail onto the floor with them. One managed to stand up and run around like a chicken with its head cut off. The other simply tried to roll the flames off his body. I reloaded my pistol calmly and handed it to Mab.

“We’re going to run straight for the entrance. Anyone grabs you, put that in there stomach and keep pulling the trigger until you run out of bullets.” I said as I snatched one of the men’s rifles and a spare magazine. I wasn’t familiar with the specific weapon, but it used fairly standard controls and had a red dot sight for easy aiming. She nodded and followed me as I pushed my way out of the bathroom. The ravers had cleared out of the restroom area, but the dancefloor was still a sea of movement.

“Stick to the wall.” I said as I scanned the area in front of me. It was impossible to see anything with all the lights, whether they be from the ceiling, glow sticks, flashlights, Faery fire, or the plethora of augments running around. What I did notice was another man in tactical gear come around the hallway corner and start firing a rifle similar to mine. I body checked Mab to the ground and fired a few rounds in return. With all the lights I couldn’t be sure if I hit him, but I picked Mab up by the back of her shirt and dragged her along with me while throwing rounds towards where the man was.

“Sorry about that.” I apologized belatedly as she finally got back to her feet. She made a sound of some sort, but it was lost on me as the raver next to her suddenly came down with a case of bullet in the back of the head. She was splattered with gore as I spun around to see muzzle flashes in the rafters. The ravers were finally starting to figure out what was going on and started to head towards the exits. I tossed a few rounds into the rafters, not entirely sure where the enemy was, but sure enough to get him to put his head down. Mab was sliding over a conveyor belt when I caught up to her. When she went to jump the next one I simply picked her up and leapt it. She was not as light as she looked. After the last belt I set her down and switched magazines.

“There’s the door.” Mab pointed out the obvious just before we burst out into the cold, the entire parking lot now steaming from the movement of all the bodies. Once we started running down the parking lot I realized what the vampire meant by heavy. An upright tank, colloquially known as a mech, came barreling around the edge of the warehouse. Thankfully it was a modified police version, making it only as tall as a small house, legs as thick as overlarge motorcycles, a rounded shoulder based chassis that replaced the need for faceplates, and massive arms based on standard synthetics. That and it was carrying a mace. I heard a bit more gunfire, probably from some of the ravers or bouncers, and emptied what was left of my magazine at it before tossing the gun.

“Time to go.” I shouted as I ran towards Mab and the car. Mab was already at the car when I pulled my keys and unlocked the door. We were both inside and racing down the road before the mech came anywhere near us. I swore happily a few times before the adrenaline shakes started. I looked over at Mab to check on her.

“You still alive over there?” I asked, wondering how the sudden lack of adrenaline would hit her. Some shiver, some shake, others get a hard on. It varies.

“He grabbed me.” Mab said quaveringly. I looked into her lap and saw my M1991A1, slide locked open, in her lap. I grabbed the blood covered gun and jammed it in the center console. Mab said she had blood on her hands, but this might be the first time it was literal.

“You did what you had to, to protect yourself.” I said quickly.

“No one will blame you.”

“I will.” Mab whispered.

I couldn’t argue with that logic.  
Chapter 9

 

I rolled over and smacked my alarm a few times once it started yelling at me to get up. At one point or another I had the bright idea to make it play revelry instead of a standard alarm sound. It woke my marine senses right up. After a slight stretch I pulled on some clothes, raided the fridge for a soda and a cold slice of pizza, and headed out to my car. My pistol was still in the center console, and there was a good chance, if yesterday was anything to go by, that I was going to need it at least once before the day was over. 

I’d finished the pizza before I got to the car and had a free hand to carry the pistol back up to my apartment. On the way to that last room in my house, affectionately called the armory, I stopped to look in on Mab. I didn’t get much more out of her on the ride back to my place, and her really long shower, but she took killing the raver really hard. She was curled into a tiny ball under the heavy blankets I had on the spare bed, looking for all the world like a small kid. If the dichotomy of sick Unseelie Consort and scared little girl was frightening me, what was it doing to her?

I banished all thoughts outside myself and walked into my armory. The left corner was dominated by two large wooden tables and pegboards covered with cleaning kits and spare parts. The other walls were covered in weapons separated into long guns, pistols, submachine guns, shotguns, daggers, swords, axes, and miscellaneous raged and blunt weapons. There were also chests of various explosives and oddities surrounding the room throughout. I liked to put my pay back into my work. 

I set my pistol on one of the tables and pulled up my swivel chair. It took less than a minutes to disassemble the old colt and start scrubbing away the blood with the proper solvents. In my opinion the blood came of much too easily. It wasn’t that I wanted more work, it just felt distressing that a life was easily scrubbed away. Yara-Ma, Giants, Knackers, And Fae in general, were easy for me to kill. Humans were different. Humans had a soul. My ideology wasn’t that the soul was the connection to some greater power or some other such nonsense. No. The soul was the will to change yourself and the world around you. A murderer can reform himself and become a proper God fearing man. Not a Fae though. A million men can spend a million lifetimes trying to get a Fae to change, and it would all be for naught.

After finishing my pistol I went back into my room and. grabbed my phone. The kid with the stake was a vampire. I dialed my longtime lover’s number and looked at my nightstand. Who knows vampires better than another vampire? After a few rings she finally answered.

“It is way too early for a booty call, Jim.” Patricia Winters said with a tired smile in her husky voice. I smiled and shook my head. I could hear her rustling her long red hair.

“I did get back into town a few days ago, but this is about something else. I ran into a vampire last night and need a few questions answered by someone higher up in a family.” I said slowly. Triss wasn’t much of a morning person, and waking her up at anything earlier than nine was tantamount to suicide. I could hear her head hit the headboard.

“It is a damn good thing you’re cute.” She said with a breathless sigh.

“Meet me at the diner on 5th and Honeysuckle in forty-five minutes. You’re buying.” Triss said quickly before saying a quick goodbye. I smiled and jammed my phone into an empty magazine slot on my holster. I’d need some different gear for the day. The bad guys were playing by a different rulebook than me. 

I grabbed a new suit set in its plastic and carried it to the armory with me. I saw Mab slowly starting to stir as I walked by. I’d have to talk to her before I left. Once I was back in my gun room I tossed my clothes and holster onto the table and dug through my chests for a little black box. Once I found it I pulled out something that looked like a wetsuit with a circular laptop battery attached to the lumbar. I’d only used it a few times, but the synapse suit was certainly something else. In general, it improved strength, reaction time, speed, and was mildly tear and bullet proof. I hadn’t tested out the last two features, but I was able to lift a man who was almost all cybernetics wearing just the suit. I stripped to my underwear and pulled the suit on, even the little black gloves. Once I plugged in the battery I could feel the suit tighten and the little tendrils reach through the pores of my skin. The reason why I didn’t wear it more was because it felt so weird. Once the suit was in place I pulled on my suit, including my ballistic waist coat, and changed the ammo for my pistol to a dwarven made armor piercing round. They wouldn’t punch through cybernetic based armors, but most vests would crumple under a round or two. Once that was taken care of I clipped a pair of smoke grenades to my holster before walking out of my armory.

 

“You awake?” I asked gently outside Mab’s door. She made a noncommittal noise, so I eased into the room and leaned down next to where here head was.

“I have the feeling you’re going to stay in today. There are takeout menus on the fridge. Shelly will take care of them downstairs, give her some of the money from the pop-tart box in the freezer when she brings it up.” I explained, pointing to where the fridge was despite the fact her head was under the covers. Just before I stood up her hand shot up and caught mine.

“Another one is going to die in my place, you know?” Mab said mournfully. I put her hand back and kissed where her head should be under the blankets before leaving the apartment. Shelly hadn’t opened up yet, making me feel like I was slinking out into the early morning light.

The diner on 5th and Honeysuckle was one of those amazing places that seemed to thrive in cities. It served nothing but gourmet breakfast 24/7. After the waitress made sure I hadn’t dislocated my face she sat me down with a coffee placing my back to the concrete wall. I put a little more sugar in my coffee and watched a harpy try to collect the contents of a dropped briefcase before taking to air again. If I had to die somewhere, which was looking more and more likely, I wouldn’t mind if it was in Skye. That feeling was made more prominent as a woman and her fetch, perched on her shoulder, walked in and sat not too far from me. Seeing the dark underbelly of the city really makes one appreciate the little beauties you see in the morning. Triss made it even better when she swept in and made a beeline to my table.

“Hey.” She said bluntly before stealing a large drink of my coffee.

“Hey?” I asked slowly. Triss was the kind of woman who was either in a business suit or a dress, making her choice of jeans, a turtleneck sweater, and aviators a little strange. It didn’t make her any less attractive, actually it was strangely refreshing, it was just odd. Either way, she looked smashing for a 113 year old accountant.

“Sorry, I’m really tired.” Triss explained as she let her long red hair down and quickly tied it back up expertly. I had hair long enough to tie up once, and now have enough respect for women’s skills to never have my hair that long again.

“The entire African account is going to Hell and back.”

“That’s fine, what’re you having?” I asked as I politely waved at the nearest waitress. As she got closer I realized she had a prosthetic arm. Not a grown synthetic or full cybernetic, a plain immobile prosthetic. It must be hard to get anything that can do more than hold a pad on a waitress’s salary. I ordered a pair of crème filled donuts and Triss ordered some kind of Danish.

“How was Buffalo?” Triss asked as the waitress hurried back with a coffee cup for her. I shrugged.

“I botched the job and got reassigned.” She gave me an odd look until I explained what happened in the last forty-eight or so hours. Our food was on the table by the time I was done.

“And I thought I was busy.” Triss said as she forked her Danish and bit into the fluffy dish. I nodded in agreement and took a bite of my donut.

“I’ve got her stashed at my place for lack of a better option.” I explained between bites of donut.

“So what did you need me for, Jim?” Triss asked after a sip of coffee. I took a sip of my own before answering.

“The vampire that went after Mab didn’t have a family brand.” I said as I scarfed down the last of my donuts. I was a little hungrier than I thought. She seemed to consider that for a second while unwittingly scratching the blue W tattooed on her neck.

“It’s not exactly kill on sight anymore, but he would have to have some protection. You said he had fangs too, and those take at least a year to grow in.” Triss took another bite of her breakfast and I found myself staring at her teeth thinking about how good it felt when she bit me. How calming it was. How quiet. How peaceful. How erotic. How lovely.

“Bones.” Triss said a little louder than necessary. I shook my head slightly.

“Sorry, miles away.” I brushed off my dalliance. She made a derisive noise.

“You wake me up, and your miles away.” She said with mock anger as she took my hand.

“Anything else I can do to keep you here for a bit longer?” She asked with a little squeeze of my hand. Her hand looked so delicate, yet felt so strong.

“Ever heard of the New Dawn?” Triss shook her head slightly.

“Sounds either political or a cult to me.” She said with a shrug

“What about corpse tendons?” She let go of my hand.

“Only that you shouldn’t be playing with something like that.” She said with concern plain in her voice. I raised my hands to allay her concerns.

“It’s nothing like that. Just something running in the back of my head.” I explained easily.

“I hope so.” Triss leaned in close and bit my lips before kissing me.

 

“I don’t like my men stronger than me.” She said in a sultry tone. I smiled and kissed her back for another second before saying goodbye. Once she was gone I got out of my seat and left an ungodly amount of cash on the table. I had more than I needed, and the waitress did bring us our food pretty fast.

I got out of the diner and into my car. If the New Dawn was political, or a cult with enough money to afford an upright tank, served with a guy who was currently working as a high class rent boy. He heard all kinds of things from his clients. The traffic was hell, but it eased up as I got closer to Madame Lurish’s apartment complex of pretties. Most people leave their consorts and dominatrixes this early in the morning, not go to them. I pulled into the basement parking complex and fought to get up the icy walkway. For the amount of money people pay to get some here I’d think the Madame could afford some salt. Once I got to the door a man came up to me with a metal detector.

“I can tell you right now it’s going to beep.” I said as he prepared to lean down in front of me. He thought better of sweeping it over me and waved over one of his buddies.

“Tell whoever is standing next to the Madame that Bones is here for the month.” I said as I walked away from the goon squad and sat on an uncomfortable leather couch. They exchanged a few looks between themselves before radioing in to someone. Madame Lurish, like a few other high end business owners, was a Fae. The Madame just happened to owe Oona a stipend every month. It wasn’t long before a beautiful woman, who looked suspiciously like Ursula from The Mermaid, came barreling down the stairs towards me. No sooner had I stood up and straightened my suit than did she get right up in my face.

“I have already paid her lackey this month.” The Madame all but screamed at me. Her voice could have been described as iron, except for the Fae’s obvious avoidance to the metal. I gave her a slight bow.

“I apologize for the mistake. Since I’m here may I see my friend Eric Ritter?” I asked with a childish smile. The Madame returned the smile, knowing exactly what game I was playing.

“You know his rates.” She said coyly with an outstretched hand. I rolled my eyes and gave her nearly all of my money. She tapped my chest with it before walking off. The goons came back at me with the metal detectors.

“Leave him alone boys.” She said over her shoulder. It took a second, but they backed off. I smiled at them and headed towards Mr. Ritter’s floor. On the way up I saw our old sergeant, now a general, walking down stairs with a smile. I turned my head a little, I wasn’t exactly on good terms with the U.S military at the moment, and walked up to the elevators. It made absolutely no sense to me why they were up a flight of stairs. Either way, I took an elevator up an additional four story’s and headed down a nondescript hallway. It felt odd to pay to pay to see a friend, at his house, but he was a wealth of information. In at least one sense, it could be considered a business transaction. I took a steadying breath and knocked on Eric’s door. It took a few moments but he eventually opened the door.

 

“Jim?” Eric asked as he pulled a towel off his damp brown hair. I looked him up and down, realizing he was literally wearing a towel and his damp Fae-like body. I wear equal opportunity loafers.

“I need to pick your brain for a bit.” I said as I politely looked away and scratched my head. He set the towel on his shoulder and looked down the hallway.

“You didn’t see the sergeant on the way out did you?” Eric asked, leaning bodily out the doorway, getting distressingly close to me.

“Why?” I asked, taking a small step back. Eric was always fond of teasing me, and everyone else who was in our unit. The sergeant, now the general, was the only one who fell for it.

“He forgot a couple important bars.” Ritter reached into his apartment and pulled up general’s bars to show me as he walked further in. I chuckled as he tossed them into a key bowl.

“Let me get some clothes.” Eric said while walking towards his bedroom. I leaned against a pillar and looked at his overpriced furniture. Instinctively I knew Eric worked out of his home and it had to represent his business, but so did Luther. The apartment I was standing in was about as homey as an industrial sized blender. The only personal touch I saw was a well-worn bean bag and cheap teddy bear holding a sewn-in heart.

“You’ve got me all to yourself for six hours.” Eric teased playfully as he dumped himself on the couch wearing jogging pants and holding a sweater in his arms. Now I felt slightly dirty.

“What happened to my money only buying me four hours?” I asked before sitting across from Eric. He dramatically put a hand to his forehead.

“I’m not worth quite what I once was.” He said flamboyantly. We both laughed as he put on his sweater. It was honestly a shame to see his abs go.

“So who are you killing today?” Eric asked with something of a dejected smile. For a second I wondered how much of him giving me this information was his job and how much of it was friendship. Eric did his job in the service, but he had been a draftee. Every step of the war was another step towards a person Ritter never thought he could become. My asking him this might be asking him to take more of those steps.

“It’s a little complicated. Let me tell you what’s happening, and then you tell me if you want anywhere near this. I can always get information from other people.” I gave him a gentle smack on the knee.

“You’ll have to get the Madame to give me a refund though.” He snickered at that. I gave him a basic rundown of the last two days, which didn’t go by any easier with the second telling. Eric was fairly pensive by the time I was done speaking.

“Do you want me to leave?” I asked as Eric looked down at his plush rug. He shook his head and looked at me seriously.

“Is Mab cute?” That is what consists of a serious question in a cat house. I threw one of the pillows next to me at him.

“What!” He complained loudly.

“Do you have any idea what a mage can do between the sheets?” He asked, thoroughly incensed at this point. I dropped my head into my hands.

“And sane ones are so hard to find.” He just kept talking.

“I mean, you’re shacking up with a vampire, and I’m pretty sure you’ve been with at least one succubus.” And talking.

“Then there’s the Gentry. I think the Seelie are the real freaks of the two.” And talking.

“After that you get into the Fae with the funny shapes.” And talking

“Eric.” I said tersely. He stopped talking and sat down quietly.

 

“Sorry, I got excited.” I gave him a smile and a small nod before patting him on the shoulder.

“Where were we?” he asked, his tone back done to that of a normal human’s. I sighed and cracked my knuckles absentmindedly.

“I was politely asking if you wanted out of this particular game.” Eric made a sound and waved off that idea.

“Madame Lurish has more than enough security in this place for me to sleep comfortably at night.” Eric said easily. Images of the pregnant fae in their beds flashed in my mind.

“Have you ever heard of the New Dawn? It might be a cult or political group and the leader, or a person of high ranking, goes by the Messiah.” I asked thinking about how the vampire in the bathroom said the words. Eric poked his temple with a pointed finger once or twice.

“Off the top of my pretty little head, I don’t have much. The New Dawn is a cult with political ties. It’s supposedly run by a Seer, probably a run-down mage, who collects cast off vampires and turns trust fund babies into bite addicts. I’ve got vague memories of a bad loan with the Seelie Court and some property recovery schemes, but that’s all I’ve got without doing some research.” Eric said with his eyes closed, as if he was reading a book in his head.

 

“What do you mean by political ties?” I asked, fairly sure Eric didn’t address that.

“Oh, they lobby for rights for vampires without families and dissolution of the Unseelie Court, if memory serves.” Eric returned easily. So it was a bunch of vampires following around a mage who thought he was having visions of some god.

“By property recovery you mean the thing where people sell the unclaimed good from when all those people got teleported to D.C, right?” I asked, trying to fit a few pieces into my head. He nodded his head. If nothing else that meant they could have a big piece of property somewhere.

“Any more on that loan?” I asked hopefully. He shook his head as the phone on his wall rang.

“I’ll have to do a little bit of digging.” Eric said right before answering the phone. He answered with a smile, only to gasp and slowly go grey as the conversation went on. I stood up and walked closer to him, putting a comforting hand on his back. I’ve seen bad news from both ends. He was in tears by the time he hung up the phone. I pulled Eric into my chest and let him cry.

“I’m here.” I said as he gripped my suit. It’s okay was almost never an appropriate thing to tell someone. Telling someone you were at hand, ready to do anything they needed for them, was another thing entirely. It took a few minutes, but he finally calmed down.

“My neighbor is dead.” He said quietly, unclasping his hands from my suit and wiping his face. I leaned down slightly to look into Eric’s eyes.

“Was she a Fae?” he nodded slowly. His mind was still in a haze of grief.

“Eric!” I shook his shoulders until his eyes locked onto mine.

“Was she pregnant?”

 

Chapter 10

 

I skipped the elevator and took the stairs up one floor to get to Sonya Richeg’s apartment. She was another one of Madame Lurish’s workers, and happened to be the New Dawn’s next victim. I drew a quick glamour over my wallet and showed it to the heavily armored officers outside the door. They let me inside without any question, making the glamour my favorite trick in the universe.

The inside of the apartment looked distressingly like Eric’s. It had the same kitchen, furniture, wallpaper, TV, and even the same carpet. The only thing that made Sonya’s different was the large collection of stuffed animals and pictures of her with various clients. I stepped around some broken glassware and followed some crime scene technicians into the bedroom. I covered my mouth in abject horror when I saw what was waiting for me. Sonya was a small woman, and tan, with even shorter dark hair. Her body lay across the bed next to the cracked headboard, ripped open from stem to stern, plus the three stab wounds. Detective Abraham saw me come in, so did the discount Bigfoot in a white suit next to him, and waved me over to the body.

I decided to ignore the man in the suit and moved closer to what was left of Sonya. The technicians in their white coveralls were pulling out slivers and taking pictures as usual. I took a quick look at one of the slivers and saw that it was a dark wood this time. The vampire I shot in the kidney, and liver, must have had the other stake. I covered my mouth and loomed over the body. I thought it was just me the first time, but now, I realized the bodies smelled a little more than they should have. Death isn’t pretty, and it certainly doesn’t smell it, but this simply smelled wrong. I shook it off and finally got a look into the larger wound. Everything inside of her had been ripped out. Including her child. I walked back over to Truman.

 

“I think I get rid of you and another one pops up.” The Detective said as he poked at his tablet. I leaned around Abraham and looked the other man up and down. He was easily 6’5 and as thick as a barrel. He wore an immaculate white suit that would give my tailor a woody, and wore his hair in a tight knot at the back of his head, bound with a heavy golden circle.

“Anything different this time around?” I asked, pointedly not looking at the walking meat stick.

“Just him. He said he’s from the Seelie Court” Detective Abraham slid his tablet into a pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“I need to smoke. You two sort this shit out.” He said before walking off. I looked into the man’s green eyes and wondered who could get to their weapon first. Professional interest would dictate not shooting each other on sight.

“Jim Bones. Unseelie Court…troubleshooter.” I extended a hand to the man. He growled to himself before wrapping my hand in his massive mitt. He had three rings on his thumb and the two closest fingers.

“Fergus MacRoth. Seelie Court…associate.” He said in a low tone. He had my job, just on the other side of the fence. It certainly made me wonder how many people Maeve had killed in her own sandbox.

 

“What’s your Queen’s interest in this all of a sudden? When I talked to her she seemed pretty eager to ignore the situation.” I turned to look at MacRoth, wondering what kind of weapons he might have hidden in his suit. I couldn’t see anything printing, but I took care to prevent that same problem. He slowly, in deliberate fashion, scratched his temple.

“Your, grandstanding, had an effect on her. She has concerns about the Accords. She is pulling her forces together in preparation of an attack on her person, or on her subjects.” He put his hand down and seemed to unconsciously tap a few things on his side.

“Is that the only reason she is amassing an army?” I asked, all pretense tossed to the wind. He gave me a cold look.

“I am not privy to all of my Queen’s thoughts.”

“Cut the shit! If the Queens duke it out, North America is toast.” I did my best to not shout. The men in white suits were looking at me like I was crazy. Fergus ran a hand through his thin beard and leaned a little closer to me than I liked.

“Then do what you were told to do.” He said before walking towards the doorway. Before he got there, he raised the hand with the rings, looked at me pointedly, and snapped his fingers. Something akin to a heat wave raised in front of him, and he simply walked off into nowhere. The rings must have taken him into Arcadia. I swallowed hard. Arcadia was not the place for mortals at the best of times. It was barely a place for Fae anymore since they left for greener pastures. The only ones that stayed were the Courts and Mages with more power than brain cells. But Arcadia provided the perfect solution to the problem of security in the mortal realm. I shook my head and gave Ms. Richeg one last glance. I did have to finish the job I had been given.

“You wouldn’t happen to know about fourteen dead ravers, two men in tactical gear burned to death, a vampire kid missing some organs, and another guy in tac gear shot to shit?” Detective Abraham asked as he tossed what was left of his cigarette into the nearby bin. I shrugged.

“I’ve never been to a rave. It’s on my bucket list actually.” I said as I walked past the Detective. I stopped and pulled a card out of my wallet.

“I listened to the net a couple days ago, and have heard a few things that might go over you and your men’s head.” I handed Abraham a card with my number on it.

“If you, just you, ever need a hand with something off the books, leave a message at this number. Just think about it next time you find out where a biker gang augmenting with corpse tendons hides out, or when you run into an especially unfriendly Fae.” I started towards the door.

“Any particular reason for this?” The Detective asked before I left. I grabbed the door jamb and took a good look at him.

“You’re a good cop, and I’m Unseelie not unseemly.” I said, stealing the line from Maeve. He smiled as I headed out towards the elevators. This case was coming to a head around me and, even with the information I had, I was getting left behind. All I had was a title and a party name. No name, no address, no pictures to work off of. I swung by Eric’s, but he was getting primped and preened for a doubles date at the opera. He was hiding his feelings, but at least it was in a much healthier fashion than I did. I smiled to myself and took the elevator down.

The guards were happy to see me coming down the stairs, and I was happy to walk out the door. I took two steps out into the cold, took another swirling step down the rabbit hole, and fell onto a hard stone floor. Once my head stopped spinning I could smell smoke. I looked up and saw the Unseelie Gentry, still sitting on low cushions and standing where they were during the fight. All of them were covered in undergrowth and moss. I slowly pushed myself up and looked around. The room was much darker now, only the fires in the side of the walls burning and a few scattered braziers, but it was the Unseelie Court nonetheless.

“You have failed me, Human.” I heard Oona shout waspishly.

Gulp.

 

 

Chapter 11

 

The smoke was choking my lungs as I stared into the flickering darkness. I could see the first line of the Gentry and the far off braziers, but nothing more. I heard a snap and my cheek exploded into a sparkler of pain. I reached up to it and my hand came away with blood. I was tempted to pull my weapon, but brandishing cold iron in Arcadia was an open call to all for a fight. What happened to my face was no more than a love tap. Another snap peeled the air and slashed open my hand. I clenched my fist and bit off a shout.

“This is getting tiresome.” I shouted into the darkness.

“Then you should have done your job.” Oona said inches behind my right ear. My heart stopped as the fires grew brighter. I could feel her warm breath down the back of my suit jacket. I started to turn and I was knocked down onto my stomach. I shouted as I hit the ground, my back turning into knots. By the time I got to my hands and knees I could see Oona’s dark red leather boots. I looked up and saw she was wearing a form fitting leather suit that looked like it have just as easily been made of latex. Her hair was bound up in a long tail the reached down to her ankles. My chest started to burn with fear when she put the tip of a ridding crop, what must’ve cut my face and hand, under my chin and slowly made me stand.

“You were given two simple tasks.” Oona said menacingly as she walked around me. I saw Fin Bheara sitting in his throne, smiling at me like an idiot.

“Tell me who is killing my Fae.” Oona demanded candidly. I didn’t have a chance to answer before she broke the crop over my head, knocking me back to the floor.

“You can’t!” She screamed. Her voice was a physical force that made my brain vibrate in its case.

“If you knew you would have brought me their head already.” Oona quieted down near the end and picked me up by my neck. Once I was standing on my own two feet she stood in front of me.

“What do you know?” She asked frankly, as if she was bored. I bit my lip.

“Your subjects are being killed with a wooden stake my Queen. I think…” The other side of my face erupted into a line of fire as she struck me with what was left of the crop. I cupped my hand to my face and blood pooled in my palm.

“I did not ask what you thought.” Oona put out into the warm air bluntly. I nodded and let my hand down.

 

“The killer bypasses all security systems through supernatural means. A tracking spell on the weapon leads to the Seelie Court tree.” Oona snapped her weapon inches in front of my face.

“Did you say a weapon of the Seelie Court killed my Fae?” Oona asked incredulously? I didn’t want to answer that question. She gave me a burning look.

“A weapon wielded by a Vampire under a mages tutelage.” I said, trying to turn her train of thought.

“The mage is the Messiah of the New Dawn, a group dedicated to destroying you my Queen.” I explain in a pleading tone. The Queen smacked the side of my neck, making me fall to a knee.

“Does the Seelie Court amass its army?” Oona asked impatiently. I took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

“Maeve draws her troops close to her in fear.” I said breathlessly, trying to derail Oona.

“She draws them close the way a cobra draws up its head.” Oona said as she stalked up to her own throne.

“It’s the mage!” I shouted at Oona’s back as I stood. Oona swirled on one foot and stomped back.

“No human has had the gall to defy the Slough since the time of the Fir Bolgs. No, this is a game set by the Seelie Court and your Messiah is their pawn.” Oona gave me a little push that knocked me on my ass before sitting next to her husband. He was in a black silk doublet, belted at the waist with his massive sword, and matching leggings playing with a small dagger.

“He didn’t technically fail. He still protected your little slag” Oona cooed at her husband. I gave her an inquisitive look. Five seconds ago I thought she was going to use my prostate as a paperweight, now she was giving me the thumbs up? Fin Bheara gave his wife a look before nodding.

“Let’s have a show of it then!” Fin Bheara shouted to no one in particular as he thrust himself out of his chair. I stood up and walked a little closer to the two thrones. The Unseelie king waved to a few people off in the dark before pointing at me.

“You, James Galdur Bones, have to prove you are still worthy of this Court.” He said with a large smile. I heard fitful clapping behind me.

“Being the generous man that I am, you get to choose who you fight.” The King swept his hand behind me. I turned around to see who would kill me. To the far right was something that was all tentacle and had one human foot sticking out where a person’s face might be. To its left was some kind of mutated man. He looked like a cross between a Minotaur and a hippo. Next to him was an elf, covered from head to toe in moss. After that was a goblin, without a nose, in some kind of armor carrying a sword. Lastly, a roughly ten foot tall Wight. I blew air through my lips and weighed my options. Aside from the tentacle monster everything was either too fast or had too much mass for me to do anything about. The only one I had the slightest chance against was the Goblin. I pointed at the goblin and looked over my shoulder at the King and Queen.

“I will kill him to prove my worth.” I said, making sure to keep all fear out of my voice. Fin Bheara clapped his massive hands and Oona seemed to smirk in my direction. The king pointed towards the iron ring I saw the powrie and goblin fight in before, so I stepped into it, and the goblin followed behind me.

“Toss your sword. Give the human a fighting chance.” Fin Bheara said from next to his throne as the goblin started to circle the ring. I pulled off my suit jacket and tossed it. Before it could make it out of the ring it hit an invisible wall. I was just glad the goblin’s sword made it out before the wall decided to materialize. It had a longer reach than I did, and with the sword I’d have been hard pressed to do anything but run away in the tiny fighting ring. Fin Bheara started a slow clap, which all the Fae of the Court began to mirror. It picked up in tempo and volume until I could feel it overtake my heartbeat.

“Fight!” Oona cried out ecstatically. The no-nosed goblin leaped forward, claws first, faster than I could have imagined. I dropped to my back and caught him on my expensive shoes. As his yellow claws leapt towards my throat, I pulled my M1911A1 and dumped my magazine into its chest. The full metal jacket rounds punched clean through his strange brown armor, eliciting guttural screams and blues sparks from the bullet holes as he jumped backwards.

Once No-Nose hit the back of the ring, frantically trying to scrape at his iron bitten wounds, I rolled to a crouch. I dumped my empty magazine and quickly loaded in another full one as the goblin ripped off hiss armor and came back for another round. One more full magazine had the Fae writhing on the stone floor, his screams nearly overtaking the screams of those behind us. I loaded my last mag, hoping it would be the one to kill the green beast. It flopped on the floor, blue sparks and sickly dark blood flying in every direction.

“Die, you ugly fuck!” I shouted as I slowly fired my last eight bullets at the hearty goblin. I had tried to hit it in the head, but No-Nose was doing a good job of keeping his arms in the way. I swore and threw my useless pistol at him in exasperation. My ability to fight something this strong was severely lacking. If I had a shotgun, even an axe, I’d be in much better shape. What I did have were two useless smoke grenades, two knives that would be just tough enough to poke through the goblin’s thick skin and touch an organ, and a fully charged synapse suit.

“Giyshdarta findiryafeda!” No-Nose screamed in something between a hacking cough and a sneeze. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it didn’t sound like an invitation to Sunday brunch. I dragged out my iron dagger and turned on the battery for my synapse suit. In less than a second all the tendrils that reached into my skin were flooded with electricity and various chemicals, that I would need a degree in electro-chemical engineering to pronounce, flooded my body. I could feel my eyes pin out and the handle of my knife crack as I watched the bloody goblin push himself to all fours.

“I think you have very nice teeth too, No-Nose.” I replied to his nonsense. To that he dropped open his dripping jaw and charged at me, his claws tearing at the stone as he loped across it. I swore, aimed for his ugly face, and swung my leg for all I was worth. I botched it horribly and caught his shoulder with my shin, but still sent him a good seven feet away from me.

My leg felt like it’d been hit with a sledgehammer, but I had the advantage for at least three more seconds. I took four quick steps up to the goblin, each one made easier with the dark synapse suit, and put a foot on an outstretched arm. No-Nose thrashed under the pressure and swung at me with his free limbs, nearly winning on all counts, but I simply dropped my weight onto his back. Once I was holding him down, the extra help of the synapse suit being the only thing keeping me alive, I rammed my knife into what should have been the glenohumeral joint of his shoulder. It certainly wasn’t a weak joint, but it did hold the arm to the entirety of the shoulder. Once the blade was in the general position, I let the goblin’s wrenching motions do all the damage I needed done. The iron of the blade made blue sparks blast out of the wound in a brilliant flash of color. No-Nose kept thrashing, nearly throwing my slowly weakening body off of him. Even though the synapse suit had light armor built in and had a micro metal skeleton, my muscles were still the engine. The tendrils that filtered between my veins and into my muscles were the equivalent of an adrenaline IV drip, and I was squeezing the bag to empty in a hurry.

“Come on.” I shouted as I started to punch the knife, hoping to at least make the arm completely useless before I was tossed off the goblin like some sad cowboy on a mechanical bull. I screamed at it some more until I hear a popping sound to my right and saw No-Noses’ dislocated arm come to grab the back of my shirt. I felt his curled claws scratch through my clothes and rake my synapse suit before I was tossed at the floor. I choked off a shout as a rib cracked despite the suit’s structure and my ballistic waist coat.

Through the coughing and the smoke in the air I tasted blood in my mouth. I looked down and saw a puddle under my mouth. Depending on where that came from, it could be a problem later. I smiled with a painful cough and rolled over. No-Nose was in the process of snapping his arm back into place and pulling the blade out. With all the holes punched into his goblin body, the massive amounts of blood running down his side, and his uselessly hanging arm, I had to wonder how he wasn’t dead already.

“How are you not dead?” I ask anyways. It said something else in that weird hacking cough language and waved its useless arm at me, fitful sparks still spitting out of the wound. It looked to the crowd, raised its arms, and shouted some more. They seemed to enjoy it.

“Little help here?” I asked Oona as I stood up slowly, my ribs screaming in pain. I couldn’t be sure if it was the left or right side yet. She giggled, a slightly disconcerting sound.

“He said, he’d die when a human learned to fight.” Oona leaned forward in her throne.

“Will you let that insult to me stand?” Oona said in tone that seemed too low to be heard over the crowd. How was that an insult to her? I was the one getting beaten to death. I coughed a bit more, pulled my silver dagger, and spit a clump of bloody phlegm. If I was going to die in this hellish pit, the least I could do was make sure that No-Nose never walked right again. I flipped the silver dagger around in my right hand, making sure it was point down, and grabbed one of my smoke grenades. The smoke wasn’t going to do much but hurt my eyes, but it was more iron for me to hit the ugly bastard with. I pulled the pin with my teeth and let the handle pop off while No-Nose was still playing the crowd. In less than five seconds the fuse hit the starter material and smoke was billowing out of the top. That was when I got his attention.

“Catch.” I tossed the grenade at his head like a baseball. He obviously ducked it, but it gave me a few seconds to rush in and knee him in the gut. The knees, elbows, wrists, and ankles are some of the hardest bones in the body, the problem is using them. As No-Nose bent over I kneed him one more time for good measure before grabbing him by the throat. Once I was sure I had something of a handhold, I slammed his ugly head back into the invisible wall that was slowly becoming visible with all the smoke. No-Nose tried to growl something as my synapse suit assisted grip crushed his throat, and my dagger dashed in and out of his abdomen. The skin was ridiculously tough and coarse, scratching and bending the weak metal of the silver blade. I screamed as I continued to rip away at the beasts gut. I screamed as its intestines fell out. I screamed as its blood pooled around my feet and the smoke choked my lungs. I screamed as my arm went numb from pouring out all my hate. I screamed as No-Nose took his revenge and punched his claws into my stomach before falling to the floor.

I fell to ground beside the goblin, everything below its breastbone little more than ground chuck, and looked down at my stomach. My head was starting to feel fuzzy, but my stomach just felt a little weird. It’s large fist reached into the areas where my navel should have been like it was going after an orange. I coughed a few times and felt blood rise in the back of throat. That was when I felt the claws in my body. I screamed. 

And screamed.

And screamed.

There was nothing in my world but pain as I weakly reached down and tried to pull the green appendage out of my gut. My hands were too weak, or too slippery. I wasn’t sure. My Queen didn’t have that problem though. She crouched down next to me, the smoke clearing around her as she put a calming hand on my neck. I looked into her black eyes and was pulled into a place of infinite peace for the second time in my life. I barely recognized her wrenching out the goblins hand from my stomach as pain. My Queen lay me down and straddled my body, still staring into my eyes as she leaned in to speak to me.

“This is going to hurt, James.” Oona said quietly, almost as if she would regret causing the pain for the first time in her unnatural life. I swallowed hard and enjoyed the peace she enveloped me in for a few moments longer. It disappeared in an agonizing instant as I felt her hand push into my wound. I writhed and screamed at the violation. There was nothing in my mind but her nails and the vacuum of space her fingers were creating. Once her hand came out I looked down to see her hand covered in blood, my blood, holding a long yellowed nail. I could feel hot tears burning down my face as she placed a hand on my chest. For a moment there was a great warmth there. It was a warm kiss on a cold day. Just a moment later it turned into a horrible burning as the Unseelie Queen funneled power into my body. The little nicks and scratches on my faces itched until they scabbed and scarred. My ribs were reeled into place like an unruly fish and grafted into place as electricity arced my body into unnatural angles. The entirety of my stomach, veins, intestines, tendons, muscle, belly button and all were torturously regrown. By the time my Queen was done my voice was gone and her handprint was burned into my chest.

“You dance well, James.” Oona whispered by the short hairs of my ear. She made a cooing sound and switched to the other ear, her smooth lips playing across my burning skin.

“But you are starting to misstep. We all have our places to be, and I will not like mine if you don’t do your job.” My Queen made a horrifying hissing sound next to my ear and switched ears again, her hands playing over my bare stomach. Considering how little blood I had in my body, I had the strangest boner right now.

“A war benefits no one, and I do not want to lose any of my lovers in a needless war. Bring me his head.” Oona stopped slithering and grabbed my head, bringing my face closer to her, our eyes locking without the magical sensation.

“You are my favorite human, something interesting is always happening around you.” She planted the tiniest kiss on my nose.

“I am so glad I took away all your little needles. Made you scream and shout for one little hit. Beg and plead for one last fix.” She giggled again. It was really creeping me out.

“I fixed you but, if you don’t do this right, I will destroy you.” Oona dropped my head and disappeared to her throne. I sighed and rolled over to my side. I didn’t hurt, I was blissfully aware of that, but I was tired enough to fall asleep next to the goblins corpse without a second thought. It took a me a few tries but I eventually stood up with my jellied limbs and grabbed my pistol and jacket.

“Did I please this Court?” I mumbled as loud as I could with a bow to Fin Bheara and Oona. Fin Bheara clapped twice and gave me a very small bow.

“I dare say you did.” He said with a toothy smile.

“I agree with my wife’s decision to heal you just to see what you do next.” He smiled at Oona and looked back to me.

“Be gone.” Fin Bheara said easily. Just like that I was back in the cold outside Madame Lurish’s apartment complex. I shivered against the cold and pulled my suit jacket on. The time difference in Arcadia became apparent as the sun started setting behind some of the taller skyscrapers and the neon signs were already firing up. There was a slight tap behind me. I turned around to see a guard with a massive cybernetic arm, probably from the next rotation, shushing me off the glass. I gave a slight wave and walked towards the parking complex. My day had officially been blown. When I got to my car I had a ticket. My tail light was busted.

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

It took me until full dark to get home; my reflexes still far from where they should be. When I did, the Golden Crown was packed to the gills. I made sure my coat covered up as much of the blood as possible as I walked into the bar. All the noise and motion, even though it was mostly kids just out of their teens with fruity drinks and ditzy partners, was nearly overwhelming. I nearly stumbled into the bar, garnering quite a few looks along the way, and waited for Shelly or one of her girls to come along.

“Welcome to the Golden Cro… you look like shit.” Mab said bluntly. I gave her a quizzical look. She had her hair done up in a bun and was holding a little notepad.

“What are you doing down here?” I asked, too tired to process much more than basic bodily functions. Mab’s eyes darted upstairs before she answered.

“One of Shelly’s girls called out and the little guy with the ponytail is still in Puerto Ricco, so I offered to help.” I nodded and pointed down below the bar.

“Three beers please.” I ordered as politely as possible. Mab pulled them up and opened one with a magical flick of the finger.

“What happened to you?” She asked as she slid the brown bottles my way. I downed half a bottle before answering.

“I was entertainment for the King and Queen.” I said with contempt.

“What did you kill?” Mad asked as she leaned in with a twisted smile. I backed up and thought about the dichotomy of little girl and freaky Fae consort again.

“Goblin.” I said with a purposeful lack of inflection. Mab almost purred as her eyes flittered in her head.

“I saw Oona put two of her elves in the ring with a goblin.” Mab slowly ran a finger over her lips. It seemed to catch the attention of the kid next to me. I bumped him with a shoulder and shushed him off.

“He killed and ate both of them.” Mab seemed to be having an experience of the memory.

“Get some sleep. I’m moving you tomorrow.” I explained before I stood with a groan.

“Have Shelly put these on my tab.” I said as I picked up the two unopened beers and headed towards my stairs. The bottom gate was unlocked, which I put down to Mab, but my door was ajar. I flipped over one of the beer bottles and pushed the door open with my foot.

“How many people have the code to your apartment?” I heard a familiar feminine voice say. I lowered the bottle.

“Very few.” I said in resignation as I walked into the low light of my apartment.

“And how many more can get past Shelly and the explosives?” She asked. I looked around for where voice was coming from as I walked towards the living room. I was about to put my foot on the soft carpet before I was pinned to the kitchen wall by strong hands and soft lips. I   
caught Triss up in a much needed hug and returned the kiss. It would have gone on for hours if Triss hadn’t smelled me.

“What is that?” Triss asked in mild disgust and confusion. She set the beer aside and gently opened the top of my jacket.

“I’m fine” I insisted as her mouth opened in shocked horror. There was no point in trying to push her strong arms away.

“What happened?” Triss asked, her voice filled with worry. She pulled my suit off and ran her long hands over my blood covered clothes and new scars.

“I got caught up in a meeting with a goblin and then had a medical exam with Oona.” I forced out a laugh that made my newly healed ribs twinge. Triss took a few steps away to turn on a light, and I took advantage of the moment to grab a beer.

“To be honest though, I would have preferred a few months of hospitalization to Oona’s idea of convalescence.” I quipped.

“What?” Triss was at a loss for words. I set the beer down and wrapped her in my arms. I didn’t have the words she needed to hear. Hell, no one had the words I needed to hear. My eyes started to water as I held her close. 

“We need to get you clean.” Triss said quietly, her head resting on my shoulder. I nodded numbly and started to let go; instead Triss picked me up like a newlywed and carried me towards the bathroom. I smiled up at her. The best part about a vampire for a girlfriend? She can pick you up.

Triss set me down when we got into the bathroom and started to strip me. My already shredded clothes came off in seconds, Triss simply finishing the destruction.

“Why are you in a wetsuit?” Triss said with a laugh as she quickly stripped off her own clothes and started adjusting the water temperature. I fiddled with a few straps on what was left of the synapse suit and started to laugh myself.

“It’s a synapse suit. It, uh…” I scratched my head, trying to think of how to explain what it did. She let her hair out of its bun and shredded the already destroyed suit.

“It’s not a problem.” She said with a sharp toothed smile. I nodded my head and followed her into the warm water. 

I rinsed off the blood and all Triss could do was stare. I understood her plan to take my mind of what had happened, but cleaning off blood was quite a brutal reality of my job. She backed to the edge of the shower and watched as I grabbed a rough edge brush and lathered it with soap. It nearly rubbed my skin bloody as I scrubbed, taking layers off my skin, but it was the only way to get all the blood off. Guns were easy, so were swords and knives, but skin was full of little pores. My new scars were surprisingly clean when I got to them though. Triss was openly crying when I stared to wash out my slightly longer than normal hair. She had always known what I did for a living, but this was the first time it had ever been presented in such a raw fashion.

“I can’t…” Tris said in a loud cry as she leapt out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and ran out of the bathroom. I wanted to run after her, but chasing her would only make it worse. I swore and finished cleaning the blood out of my hair. If I was lucky she was still in the apartment, and she was just worried about me rather than my job. If I wasn’t so lucky, than she was reevaluating living a life with a murderer and was on her way back home. I swore and turned off the shower. One way or another, I had to walk out of the bathroom and find out what she decided. I toweled off and pulled on some loose clothes.

“Triss?” I asked the empty space of my apartment. When I didn’t hear anything I swore and punched my wall.

“I’m back here.” I heard here voice come from my room. I rushed down the hall and stood in my doorway. She had wrapped the large towel around her sodden body and was sitting against the edge of my bed. I felt tears well up in my eyes and sat down next to her.

“I should have told you that was a bad idea.” I said quietly, daring to wrap my arm around her chilly shoulders. She leaned into me and shook her head.

“It’s all my fault.” She said seriously.

“It is not!” I said quickly.

“We’ve showered together before. Just never after something like that.” I tried to explain. There was no way she could have known.

“It is my fault.” She started to cry and dragged herself closer into my chest. I tried to tell her it wasn’t, but something in her brain wasn’t quite ready to listen yet.

“Hey!” I interrupted her crying after it went on a little longer than it should have.

“The only thing that is your fault is hanging around with me.” I said in all seriousness.

“And you can fix that by walking out that door.” I scrambled over to my nightstand and pulled out a box before kneeling down in front of her. She looked at the box as I opened it. Inside was a golden ring shot through with ruby tendrils.

“But, I really wish you would stay and be my wife.” I said with tears in my eyes. She was crying too, but she did look at the door for a long second before catching me up in her arms.

“What about the Winters family?” Triss asked

“We’ll work it out.” I said as she picked me up, nearly crushing my ribs.

“Can I turn you?” She asked excitedly. Her eyes looking brighter than they had in ages.

“Maybe later.” I said as she finally let go. She pulled the ring out of the cheap little box and slipped it on her finger. She looked at her ring blissfully until her eyes locked onto mine. I wasn’t sure who moved first, but it was Triss who pushed me onto the bed. She ran her hands over my body as I pulled her mouth to mine. For the longest time we just rolled on the bed, feeling each other’s bodies. When she was ready I pushed my way into her. Triss’ voice pulling me forward. As I worked my way in an out of her she bit my shoulder injecting the magical narcotic into me and drinking her fill of blood. A delightful lightheadedness coursed through my body and made my eyes roll back in my head as the magical sedative forced my brain to release a horde of various chemicals. They pushed my body further than I thought it could go, and both of us enjoyed every second of it.

When we were done Triss laid against the new scars on my body, still thinking them her fault for some reason. I ran my hand through her hair and closed my eyes. It felt good to have Triss next to me again. My mind was running in a million directions, but the one constant was her slow breathing. In, and out, in, and out. It gave me and incredible feeling of comfort. I sighed and tried to force myself to sleep.

What did the New Dawn gain from making everyone think the Seelie Court was killing pregnant Unseelie Fae? There was no system in place if the Accords were broken, meaning all-out war was the only option. A war benefited nobody. Were they connected to the Seelie Court? There was that loan I know next to nothing about. Or was this even more ridiculous and about stealing more things to sell when people abandon their homes in another property recovery scheme? What if a war was the point? Who on Earth would benefit? I sighed and tried to listen to Triss’ breathing. In, and out, in, and out, in, and out, in, and out.

“What the fuck was that!” Private Caxot screamed at me as I finished dragging the blade out of the second prisoner’s eye. I couldn’t help it, I smiled at him. The private was trying not to point his rifle at me as I wiped the blood off my face. The kid was screaming behind me.

“Men under the age of 20 have better memory than those over thirty.” I explained as I wiped my knife on the corpse in front of me. Private Shoemaker and Freehiem were both starting to seriously doubt their mission. We had all signed up to make a difference after various amounts of time slogging it out on the front. We all knew nothing was going to happen, we were just beating our heads against the hardened Texan will. I signed up for something much different then what I was doing when I’d been approached at the military hospital after taking three bullets in the shoulder.

“The kid knows where it is.” I walked over to the last stall and dragged out the final prisoner, dropping him in front of the kid. After pulling his gag and giving him some water I pointed the knife at the kid.

“Same deal as last time.” I rammed the knife into a useless meaty area of the prisoner’s stomach. He thrashed around on the ground and screamed loud enough to vibrate my ear drum. The boy turned away; I reached out and smacked him in the head.

“I may be the one stabbing him, but you are the one giving me the reason here kid. You will keep your eyes open and watch!” I shouted at him between punches to areas that wouldn’t permanently damage anything. He blubbered and looked his compatriot in the eyes.

“Same deal as before. You tell me what I need, we take you in as a POW.” I explain as plainly as possible. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t take the deal. The kid was shaking his head, tears flying from his face. I sighed in exasperation.

“Can you at least tell me why?” I wrenched the knife from the last prisoner’s side and stuffed the gag back into his mouth. The kid stared at the man on the floor and cried harder, snot coming out of his nose. I moved close to the kid and pushed on a small wound I put in his stomach earlier.

“Tell me!” I screamed. This kid was breaking me faster than I was him. He looked like any other teenager on the street. He screamed as my finger got deeper into the wound. I stopped and looked away. None of my men were looking at me. I stood up and leaned against the nearest mirror.

“Clear out.” I said just loud enough for my men to hear. They looked at me in confusion.

 

“What do you mean?” Freehiem asked, stepping over the prisoner and putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I mean, leave the room.” I said coldly. They all stared blankly at me.

“I’ll have the answer in five minutes or the mission is scrubbed.” I explained as I pushed Freehiem in the direction of the door. Once they were out I ungagged the last prisoner and untied the kid. He immediately tried to swing at me. I pulled my sidearm, put it in his hand, and pointed it at the man on the floor.

“James!” I felt something on my neck as I watched a boy shoot his father. It tugged me from my nightmare into a sparse bedroom with a woman holding me down.

“Get off of me!” I pushed at her as she kept biting me, each one making me more sleepy and weak. She was too strong, and I was too tired to reach any of my weapons.

“Get off!” I screamed again. Tears blocking my vision, my chest wracking with sobs. Triss crossed my arms on my chest and held them down. The narcotics in her bite had finally pushed through the confusion and brought me to reality. I screamed against myself as she held me down.

“It’ll be okay.” She said over my cries. My chest burned as fresh sobs burned their way up out of my throat.

The one thing Oona didn’t fix.

 

Chapter 13

 

My alarm shocked me awake at six sharp. I jumped out of bed and smacked the alarm to silence. Thankfully, despite my erratic movement, I didn’t wake up Triss. Even though blood gives vampires extra fuel, the magical side of the narcotic takes a good deal of energy. I looked at my slightly gored chest and arms. She expended a great deal of energy last night. Despite the lack of food in the fridge, besides a few slices of old pizza, the coffee maker worked just fine.

Once I had a cup of coffee I sat down in the living room and stared at the blank TV screen. I had a full internet and cable package, but the most I did was watch the occasional cat video or weather forecast. The news was always the same depressing shit, cartoons and TV programming have progressively become stupider, and movies that weren’t sequels or remakes are few and far between. One day I did nothing but watch TV, just as an experiment, and discovered that most of the shows used the same bright color palate. Even the history and documentary channels changed things to match those horrid colors. I learned more talking to the few people selling newspapers or hawking goods on the streets than anywhere else. Even the people selling food from carts new more about what was happening than any newscaster. If I needed to know what was going on in Yugoslavia, I’d get on a plane and go there.

I heard my phone start to go off in the hallway. I wasn’t sure how it ended up there but I set my coffee cup on the kitchen counter and dashed after the phone.

“Hey, Eric.” I answered quickly. Poking my head into the bedroom to make sure I hadn’t woken Triss. She was rolling slightly, but otherwise looked fine.

“I guess I didn’t wake you up then?” Eric asked quietly.

“No, I get up six.” I explained as I went for my coffee.

“Wow, you’ve been up for a while then.” Eric said in surprise. I scrunched up my nose and took a sip of cold coffee. I spit it back into the cup and looked at it. I dumped it into the sink and set it by the pot. The clock there said ten.

“I guess so.” I poured myself some more coffee, skipped the sugar, and drank it black this time.

“You sound awful. Are you okay?” Eric asked with concern plain in his voice, even over the phone. I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it, and set my cup down.

“Rough day, followed by a rough night. How was yours?” I asked, hoping he felt better after I last saw him. Not minutes after Eric said he put confidence in the Madame’s security, he found out it was useless. It wouldn’t exactly make for an easy night’s sleep.

“I’m…okay. Do you have your computer handy?” He asked, the sound of a couch being sat on in the back ground. I grabbed my cup and headed to my own couch. I left my laptop plugged in on a small stand next to a chair. I opened it up and put in my very easy to remember password.

“I’m up, what do you have?” I asked sipping some more of the bitter coffee and setting the cup down.

“I just sent you some files.” Eric said. I started going to my mail.

“There are some things you need to know before you open them.” Eric said quickly. My hands stopped and I looked off to the side, wishing I could stare at Eric in confusion.

“What?” I asked, my mind troubled at the possible implications. I heard Eric take a breath.

“I don’t have all of the details, not even close, but Triss is wrapped up with the New Dawn.” Eric explained dejectedly. I opened the files and started to browse over them. As I did Eric gave me a much more concise overview.

“Triss set up the loan for Joseph Goode, Messiah of the New Dawn, with the Seelie Court to set up a self-sustaining business for political activities. He used the money to buy into a property recovery scheme, he turned his political constituents into addicts and defaulted on his loan. What’s left of the New Dawn is little more than a cult with trust fund money. I found a few more pictures of Triss and other members in meetings with joseph Goode. There is surprisingly little about the man though.” I kept scrolling through the information. I kept coming back to a picture of Triss shaking hands with a bunch of lawyers and a small pudgy man with a soft looking face. She was wearing a fairly standard business suit with slacks instead of a skirt. I touched the screen and ran my fingers over her face. There was some kind of mistake, or she was just involved in the loan.

“Bones?” Eric asked faintly. I swallowed and closed my laptop.

“I have to go.” I murmured.

“Bones. She still loves you.” Eric said before I could hang up. I knew she did, and I loved her. That made everything different. I stared at my rug for…ever. I stared until I heard Triss yawn and come down the hallway with a stretch. She was wearing a pair of my underwear and a white shirt. She looked great in them. 

“God morning.” I couldn’t help but smile at her. She looked in my dismal fridge and settled for some coffee.

“How often do you actually eat here?” Triss asked, taking a sip of coffee and looking at her ring. I stood up and walked over to refill my cup.

“I used a plate for some Chinese a week or two ago.” I said with a shrug. Triss made an odd sound of distaste and grabbed me around the hips as I took a sip of my drink.

“I think you should move in with me.” Triss said freely. I looked into her face and tilted my head.

“I don’t even know where you live.” I complained. Two years and barely a word about it, and this was the first time I’d thought it odd.

“That’s because it’s a company apartment, but…” Triss let go of my hip and raised her ring finger.

“They can’t complain now.” She laughed as I kissed her hand. I went to kiss her lips but she stopped me.

“Jim, this is serious.” I took a slight step back and waited for her to finish.

 

“Mab said it happened yesterday, I saw the holes in your door, and last night you would’ve killed me if I hadn’t gotten the knife out of your hands.” Triss set her coffee down and grabbed my shoulders.

“You cannot be alone for this anymore.” Triss forced me to look at her as I felt a knot in the back of my throat. I nodded as she pulled me into a hug. I swore under my breath and pushed her away just a little.

“What?” She asked peculiarly. I wiped my face and took another step back, my throat tight and burning.

“I need to know about Joseph Goode.” Triss looked like I hit her over the head with a brick.

“Don’t do this, Jim” Triss begged, her hands tightening there last festoon of a grip on my fingers. I didn’t pull my hands away.

“Why?” I asked, not sure what I was asking about.

“Because he has shown me a world with the Courts too weak to do more than hide. Humans and vampires, branded or not, can live in peace with the few Fae untouched by the war.” Triss started to cry openly. I pulled my hands and took a step back.

“What about the bodies? What about Mab?” I nearly shouted, skepticism dripping from my words. Triss took a step towards me and grabbed my hand, bringing it to her face. It was warm, soft, comforting, wet from tears. Could I let all of those Fae die for this woman? Could I let Mab die for her? Oona? Maeve? Luther? Eric? The east coast?

Yes. I could. I pulled Triss in and hugged her as tight as I could. My eyes were soaked with tears. But I wouldn’t.

“You can’t do this.” As the last breath of the word left my lips Triss sucker punched me in the gut. I wasn’t sure if my stomach hurt more from her fist or my back from the wall five feet behind me. Triss rushed up to me and turned me over slightly.

“I’m sorry, Jim, but this is for your own good. I’ll see you later” She said before darting out the door in my underwear. I dry heaved a few times as I tried to reach a pistol I kept in a low cupboard. After that kind of hit, nine feet felt closer to twenty miles. I threw up my coffee, and some pizza, before finally reaching my gun. There were gunshots downstairs when I finally reached my door.

“Triss!” I shouted down the stairs as I burst down the steps, aiming my pistol from the lower doorway. Shelly was unconscious on the bar with a head wound. Both Mab and Triss were in the middle of the bar, Mab with a pair of stools floating in front of her and Triss holding the empty shotgun like a club.

“Don’t do this, Triss.” I begged as I aimed the pistol at her back. She gave me a broken look and turned back to Mab. The young witch threw one of the stools at Triss, who broke it with the shotgun, and smashed her with the other one. I fired my pistol at Triss until she ran out of the building.

“Shit!” I swore as I watched Triss streak down the road holding bleeding wounds.

“What the hell was that?” Mab bellowed as I pulled Shelly to the floor and checked her head. She wasn’t unconscious, not yet or not anymore, but she was certainly stunned. I leapt the bar and called an ambulance before grabbing some ice with a towel. Shelly started to mumble when I put the cold cloth above her head wound. It looked bad but all head wounds do.

“Is daddies gun okay?” Shelly blubbered drunkenly. I looked to my left to see the entire thing in pieces. With a little luck I could fix it, but there was no chance it would ever fire again.

“It’s fine, just focus on your breathing.” I lied, making sure her pulse stayed even. The medics showed up fifteen minutes later and carted her off to the local hospital with little more than a fare thee well. Once Shelly was gone I sat down next to the small puddle of blood her head left.

“What the hell was that?” Mab asked, looking after the departing ambulance. I dumped the ice from the clothe I had against Shelly’s head and laid it over the blood.

Mab walked up next to me and smacked me in the face. I shouted something unpleasant at her.

“I reiterate! What the hell was that?” Mab raised her hand again as I looked at the cloth soaking up the blood. I heard her throw up her hands in exasperation.

“My fiancé turned out to be one of the bad guys.” I said with a tired laugh. Mab turned on one foot and sat down next to me.

“I thought she was just your girlfriend?” Mab asked with genuine interest. I started to laugh a bit more.

“I proposed last night and, she said yes.” I let my head fall forward.

“Bummer.” Mab said mirthlessly. I thought of saying a great many duplicitous things, but held them back. There was no point pissing Mab off now that I’d chosen her and the Unseelie Court over Triss. I wiped my eyes and started up the stairs.

“What are we going to do now that your fiancé is trying to kill me?” Mab asked gravely. I scratched my slowly growing beard and pushed open my door.

“I’m going to stash you somewhere safe and get some more information on where my target might be.” I said, walking towards my armory.

“And how are you going to do that?” I stopped and looked her in the eye.

“Oona didn’t hire me for my looks. She hired me because I’m good at killing people.” I left Mab alone with that thought and started to grab my gear. Vampires are a lot like people, just a lot more powerful. The quickest way to kill them is to light them on fire or cut their heads off. I’m not sure about most people, but I was short a gun that launched buzz saws. Instead I opted for a Saiga. The Saiga was a 12 gauge shotgun, based on the venerable ak-47, with a severe disinterest in the operator’s collarbone. There was more than one way to take someone’s head off. I tossed the gun in a duffel bag and filled a few 30 round magazines with armor piecing silver sided slugs. Vampires weren’t fond of silver, but they were smart enough to wear body armor, making the rounds doubly expensive. I tossed in a simple bolt action rifle, some boat tail rounds, a pair of sub-machine guns, a handful of pistols and the rounds to feed all of them. After that I grabbed a double handful of explosives and carelessly dumped them into the bag. I had more in the car, but you could never have enough.

Once the bag was full I grabbed a spare M1991A1 Colt out of a box, my other one currently MIA, and another holster. Once both were in place I grabbed more FMJ rounds and thumbed them into the magazines. After the magazines were filled I started rooting around for a new hand weapon. I eventually settled on a black tomahawk, with a silver spike on the back, and fixed its sheath to the holster next to a trio of grenades. Once I had all my weapons I dug out a ballistic vest, my strongest one having ‘Eat Me’ stenciled on the back, and tossed it onto my gear bag. I grabbed a suit from a box under the nearest table and had all the gear on in under five minutes.

“You ready to go?” I asked Mab as I came out of my work room with my bag over a shoulder. She was zipping up a hoodie, covering a chainmail shirt, and dragging a Leatherman jacket from her seemingly endless bag. The purple jacket had ‘Skye High’ written on the back, making me smile for just a second.

“Almost.” Mab said earnest. I set my heavy bag on my kitchen counter and opened it to double check a few things.

“You know how to use that pea shooter?” I asked when Mab pulled out a silenced Walther PPK. She stuffed it in her coat and smiled at me.

“If it worked for Sean Connery, it’ll work for me.” She said glibly.

“Fair enough.” I said blithely. She pointed at my bag.

“Can you use that cannon?” Mab asked with doubt plain in her voice. I leaned on the counter and looked down at her.

“Complain about the cannon when the giant robot shows up again. I dare you.”

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

“Where are we?” Mab asked as I turned off my engine.

“Triss knows about most of my temporary safe houses. She has a thing for strange places, but she doesn’t know about my friend.” I got out of the car and looked up and down the street before I motioned for Mab to get out. She gave the minivan a dirty look on the way to the door. Gabby answered the door after a few knocks.

“What the hell?” Mab nearly shouted in bewilderment. Gabby blew out a cloud of smoke and spit something that might be considered phlegm next to my shoes.

 

“You’re not exactly a beauty queen either meat bag.” Gabby said combatively. I frowned at the imp and put an arm out as I felt Mab rise to the jibe.

“Hey, Cancer cloud, come finish these sandwiches.” I heard Luther call from the kitchen Gabby made a disconcerted noise and stalked off. Luther showed up a few second, wiping his hands on his dark sweater.

“Hey, Bones.” Luther said as he waved me in. He took a few steps back when Mab walked. Once she was inside, he casually grabbed her hand, bowed, and kissed her knuckles before standing back up.

“My lady.” Luther said with another tilt of his head. Mab blushed and did a small curtsey. Formal functions were probably a common occurrence at the Court, but something like that outside Arcadia seemed to catch her off guard. Then again, it could have just been his unrelenting sincerity.

“Mab, this is Luther.” I belatedly introduced them. They both made grunts of general acknowledgement. I pulled a plastic baggy out of my pocket and held its contents up to Luther.

“Think I can get a tracking spell with this?” I asked, pointing Triss’ detached finger at Luther. He took it cautiously before giving me an inquiring look.

 

“It’s a little grisly but it should get a good connection.” He said, looking a little green around the gills. Luther started towards his office, staring at the immobile finger the whole time. Mab took a few long seconds to look at Gabby before she followed us in.

“I have to ask, how did you manage that?” Mab asked in an exaggeratedly low tone, her finger pointed towards the kitchen. Luther sat down with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“I asked her to finish the sandwiches.” He said simply. Mab groaned and aggressively pointed a few more times.

“I meant summoning her!” She explained in a clearer fashion. I sat down and leaned so I was out of their line of conversation. Luther threw up his hands slowly with another confused look on his face.

“I was trying to summon an imp to help with a few chores and…” he made a gesture in Gabby’s direction. Mab nodded her head slowly.

“Out she popped. I smoked like a chimney back then and I convinced her to try one. A few seconds later I had a hold on her and…” Luther sighed deeply and shook his head.

“How is the power drain?” Mab asked with concern in her voice.

 

“Honestly, I could barely light up a rune to begin with. Not much has changed since then.” Luther Scratched his beard and looked in the direction of the kitchen.

“Even so, I wouldn’t trade her for the world.” Luther bit his lip for a second before reaching into his desk and pulling out another glove.

“Am I going to get paid for this one?” Luther said as he pulled the finger out of the bag.

“I already sent this, and the last, payment to your account. Just in case I die in the next few hours.” I explained with a nod.

“My financial stability will console me in my grief.” He said before making a circle with the blood on the end of the finger. Luther set the finger inside the blood, took off his glove, and grabbed his desk.

“Don’t breath.” Luther said just before he started his low growl of a chant. In a few seconds all the hair on my body stood on edge and the room started to vibrate. I looked at the finger and saw it inch around slightly. It started to dart to the east before smoke began to rise from the flesh. Luther’s voice lowered a pitch and the room began to visibly shake. I couldn’t tell if anything was actually moving, but after shadows of movement were falling off of every object in the room. Even my chair felt like it was falling from underneath me. Luther’s voice dropped to a satanic low before the finger burst into flames.

“Shit!” He stood and swore his normal voice, grabbing a random pair of sweat pants from under his desk to smothering the flames. Both of the mages in the room started to laugh as I clutched my chair in horror.

“What’s so funny?” I asked as I made sure the floor below me wasn’t going to move. Luther tossed his charred pants into a corner and picked up the burnt finger bones.

“Most people don’t think to hide a whole person. Let alone make a trap for anyone trying to track them.” Luther shook the bones in his fingers and tossed them on the map like dice. I knew a Sangoma who was good with casting bones, but he was back home due to the African dustup.

“So, no go on the tracking spell?” I asked slowly, putting my feet on the floor finally. I was so sick of the Fae, and magic, and freaking cybernetic crap. I wanted a nap.

“Not unless you want to get a couple more mages together and roast the person alive.” Luther said as he scratched his beard again. I shook my head no and caught Mab giving Luther a signal.

“Whose finger was that?” Luther asked sorely. I grabbed the bones and put them in my breast pocket.

“It was Triss’” I said morosely.

 

“Triss? Triss, as in Patricia Winters? Your girlfriend Triss?” Luther was thoroughly incensed.

“Fiancé.” Mab corrected Luther for me. That seemed to take the wind out of Luther’s sails. He fell back down into his old chair and stared at the charred spot on his desk.

“Did she like the ring at least?” He asked casually. I nodded quickly.

“She did, and it looks great on her. The ruby matches her hair just like I thought it would. I exclaimed happily.

“To bad you can’t top it with a wedding ring.” Luther said wistfully. I shook my head.

“No.” The pair stopped and looked at me.

“She hasn’t killed any Unseelie Fae and didn’t hurt Mab. If she stays out of the way when I kill Goode we can work this out later.” I bit off the words firmly. The mages eyes weighed heavily on me.

“She tried to kill me. She hurt Shelly!” Mab shouted hotly.

“But I need her.” I mouthed meekly.

“That’s because she’s a vampire!” Mab raged in exasperation. Luther sat down, saying nothing, but nodding in agreement. I scratched my slowly growing scruff and avoided Mab’s gaze.

“How much does that really change?” I asked peculiarly. Mab closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

“Not much, considering love and addiction are nearly one and the same.” Luther said as Gabby walked in with two plates laden with sandwiches. The imp set one plate in front of Luther and the other in the window seat with her.

“Thank you Gabby.” The Imp made a sound and dug into her own sandwich, cigarette butts and jalapenos dripping out from between the bread. Luther checked his own sandwich before taking a bite.

“Want one?” He offered one to Mab, which she took. He held the plate out to me, but I shook my head no and looked past Gabby into the winter sun.

“Okay, two steps back.” Luther said after a bite of his food.

“This is not an intervention.” Luther gave Mab a sharp look before turning back to me.

“Whatever the circumstances, Triss and Jim are still engaged. Triss is, however, privy to a great deal of information he needs.” Luther explained sedately. I nodded along, Luther’s voice making me feel much less combative. 

“First and foremost, what might she know that will help you do your job?” Luther asked before he took another bite of his food. Mab pulled a large pickle off of the plate and was having a religious experience with every bite. I turned away from gabby after she started to pull a bottle of Tabasco from her pouch, and looked at the bookshelf behind Luther.

“Triss is liable to know why the New Dawn is killing pregnant Unseelie Fae, she might know who the next targets are, there is a very good chance she knows who the other members are and where we can find them, and she is almost certain to have a line of communication with Joseph Goode.” I ticked the items off on my fingers. Luther finished chewing quickly and snapped his fingers.

‘You said Goode earlier, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right one.” Luther said eagerly.

“I tried something of a support group to meet friendly mages, ended up really weird, but I saw him there a few times. He wasn’t very strong, maybe on par with me, but he was crazier than a goldfish with wings.” Luther expressed with his hands. Gabby burped and sat down her empty tabasco bottle.

“He doesn’t get it.” She said helpfully, the conversation apparently going over my head. Mab and Luther shared a sigh.

“Look, all mages power is psychically derived. Most of us are nuttier than a Planters factory because our brains are so jacked up with energy. The crazier ones can sometimes see, or think they can see, into the future. Technically all of us can do it, but it varies for everyone.” Mab related as she grabbed the last pickle from the plate, leaving Luther a little put out.

“If Goode’s constantly digging into what he thinks is the future he’s about as useful as an opium addict with a beer cozy on his head.” Luther finished for Mab, his eyes following the pickle that escaped his grasp.

“Even if he is bed bound, Goode has been leading me around by the nose since Oona said the word go.” I grumbled aloud. The Unseelie women, the murders, Maeve’s reticence’s to say anything, and her need to protect herself all pointed to the Seelie Court as the perpetrators of the crime. Oona chose to ignore any evidence I had that said otherwise.

“So what’s your next move?” Luther asked before grabbing a napkin from next to the plate and wiping his hands. Mab was much less refined, slowly licking her fingers instead. Luther was only mildly distracted by the show.

“First thing’s first, I need you to keep an eye on Mab until nightfall. After that I’m driving her up to the Adirondacks.” I said with a finger pointed north.

“I thought Deon was in the Catskills still?” Luther asked curiously. I shook my head from side to side.

“Apparently there were some giants he needed to take care of.” Mab looked at me like I was delusional. Giants weren’t exactly a one person job.

“Don’t worry, he’s a friend. After that I need to have a nice long conversation with Richard Winters.” I said simply. Even Gabby gave me a surprised look at that statement.

“I know you have a great deal of explosives but…” Luther started slowly, worry plaguing every word.

“I’m not going after Winters’ Tower.” I said coolly. Luther let out a deep exhale and leaned on his desk.

“Is Winters’ one of the big vampire families? I’m a little out of touch” Mab asked with a small hand raised.

“The Winters family, owners of Winters Co, make money on everything from teddy bear factories, war profiteering, stocks, local parlors of ill repute, and a bullet factory on the lake.” I explained, thinking about the short drive to where Rochester used to be.

“I take it the Winters are a big family then?” Mab asked, still not sure if her question was answered. I stood and adjusted my suit.

“They certainly aren’t a small one.” I quipped sarcastically.

“Where are you going?” Luther asked before I made it out of his office. I put hand on his door frame and thought about what I might say to him for a few deep breaths.

“I am going to find some answers. No matter what I have to do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

I got on the highway and headed west towards what was left of Rochester and the lake. Getting close to Winters Tower without a very good reason was tantamount to suicide. The tower was a thirty story building full vampires unfailingly loyal to keeping the Winters family and company a viable well-oiled money making machine. That made Richard Winters office in his bullet factory a much more attractive target. Like many of the other factories along the lake, they were wide open, easy to get in and out of, and largely unguarded. With any luck I would be able to sneak in and out without causing too much trouble. The Winters family was a big proponent of hiring a human workforce, and if it came to a fight, they might get between me and the door.

After a few exits and a long ride on Winters’ parkway I saw a handful of smokestack billowing there namesake into the already sickened air. Even with the Seelie Court running the EPA and a few other newly created agencies, money could still buy exceptions to any law. I handed the parking attendant a few bills and settled my car in the relative middle of the lot. The lake was off to the left, mostly used for shipping and cooling machinery, and blocked off all escape in that direction. The factory itself was a utilitarian semi-domed affair of concrete and steel. Large loading docks faced the lake and a few others were tacked onto the other edge of the building. The edge of the building facing me had a plethora of doors that seemed to open and close at random for massive tractors laden with heavy steel boxes. All that interested me was a small stairway into what looked like a corner office. There was even a large plate window that would have a semi-decent view of the lake. If Triss’ mumblings about Richard Winters home away from home being this building, that was his office.

I walked to the back of my car and popped the trunk. One way or another things were going to end up loud, so I grabbed my Saiga and slung it under my arm. Just in case I had a chance to do things a little simpler I snagged a subsonic pistol, so small I could barely use it, with a suppressor that used nasty little rounds that turned into barbs once they hit flesh. I pushed it into my coat pocket and started a slow jog towards the stairs. Thankfully the stairs were properly salted, making my slow ascent much easier. Halfway up I pulled the subsonic pistol and pointed it up at the ugly industrial door, listening to the sounds of the factoring bustling around me.

“Thanks, Jen, I will.” A pudgy man with a dark widow’s peak in a guard’s uniform said with a laugh as he burst out of the door. He was pulling a box of cigarettes out of his breast pocket and casually walking down the steps. I took a steadying breath and waited for him to get away from the door. His cigarette was lit and the pack was back in his pocket by the time I shot him in the thigh. He yelped louder than the gun and fell down two flights of stairs to my feet. I kneeled down and took his uselessly blocky looking pistol before he could grab it.

 

“Don’t waste your pension.” I said before tossing the gun in the snow. He groaned and grasped at his leg.

“How many are in there?” The guard pulled away his shredded pants to find a lightly bleeding wound with something that looked like black barbwire imbedded in his skin.

“What is this?” He asked disconcertingly. I crouched down next to the man, grabbed a bit of snow off the railing, and set it on the wound. It seemed to help him a little bit.

 

“For now, just assume it’s a bullet and answer my question.” I said with a sigh. He nodded and let his balding head fall back.

“Four girls, Benny, and Mr. Winters.” The Guard smacked his head against the salted stairs, feeling like he betrayed his friends. I patted him on his generous stomach as comfortingly as I could.

“I don’t want to hurt them.” I pat him a few more times.

“Are any of them human?” He shook his head when I asked.

“Just me.” I grabbed some more snow and packed it against his thigh.

“Tell the doctors to clip the barbs, not pull.” I said very slowly and specifically. He made a small sound as I walked up the rest of the stairs.   
So far so good. Only one older guard with mild muscle damage that will do great things to his paycheck. 

I poked my head up to the window and got a good look inside. There was a small collection of desks, on the right of the room, something of a kitchenette even further right, a large glass panel overlooking the factory, and a glass walled office on the left with the curtains drawn. I ducked back down and unslung my Saiga. Once it was off my shoulder I unclipped the sling and put in my pocket, the extra strap would only get in the way. I took another quick look and checked where the targets were. One female directly in front of the door, two more in business wear in the kitchenette and one male leaning lazily on a desk. I must have caught them at lunch.

I pressed the toothy choke of my shotgun against the doorjamb and let my gun knock the door loose. Everyone in the room was surprised when I kicked open the door, especially the woman who was battered to the floor with the door. I backed up to the left side of the room and swept my Saiga over the other three vampires.

“On the floor!” I shouted over the ringing in my ears. The shorter haired girl in the kitchenette disregarded my orders and threw an entire water cooler at me. I put two shells in the plastic out of instinct more than anything and ended up drenching the poor girl I hit with the door. That became the least of my concern when the man and the short haired woman both charged at me. They were quick, but I aimed very carefully. 

I clipped his shoulder and lower stomach, putting him on the ground without a fuss. She caught the slugs in the thigh and hip, both dragging her to the floor.

“Get down!” I said one more time. Aiming my shotgun at the last woman, desperately clutching a handful of legal files. She raised her hands and laid on the floor as her coworkers swore obscene things at me.

“Thank you.” I said earnestly as I turned to the closed office. Three measured steps closer to the office and I heard the unmistakable click-clack of a pump action shotgun. I dropped to the floor just in time to see a ragged hole blown in the pressed wooden door.

“I just wanted to talk!” I screamed as more holes were blown in the door. After an awkward roll to the right I started to randomly fire slugs into the room. I didn’t want to kill Winter’s, but I needed him to stop shooting at me for a few seconds. When I was halfway through my magazine, and the ugly green curtain was in tatters, a sawn-off shotgun came flying through the window. I grabbed the pump-gun by the black strap and tossed over my shoulder, just in case one of the vampires behind me got a bright idea. There was nothing left of the door, so I just shouldered my way through it. The inside of the office would have looked like a well stained wooden wonderland of an oil baron if I hadn’t shot it to pieces.

“I just wanted to talk!” I shouted in aggravation at who I assumed was Richard Winters. He was tall, thin, had fine features, sparse white hair, pinstripe pants with hanging suspenders and a white under shirt.

“I told you to stop shooting.” He replied easily. I lowered my gun and looked behind me.

“Then why did you shoot at me?” The door was done, all the glass paneling was on the floor, the curtain was hanging on by a thread, and the two vampires who decided to attack me were still shouting at me.

“You didn’t make an appointment.” Richard said as he casually scratched the end of his nose. I balked at him.

“Who are you and what do you want?” He walked over to a coat rack and pulled his shirt off of it, blowing away particles of imagined dust.

“Jim Bones. I need Patricia Winters address.” I said, trying not to keep my Saiga pointed directly at him. There were a great deal of rumors about what an older vampire could do, and I wasn’t too keen on finding out which of those rumors were true.

“I received a very excited call from Triss this morning.” He slid into his shirt and started buttoning it on his way to his laptop.

“She said you were finally going to join the family.” Winters leaned into his desk and started poking at the keys and mousepad slowly. My back was starting to itch with paranoia, things behind me seemingly too quiet.

“I can’t say I’m not unhappy. I’ve obviously heard your name about town, but never seen your work up close.” The printer on my right started to spit out a piece of paper. The head of the Winters family buttoned his cuffs before grabbing the paper and coming closer to me.

“What happened to make you come after me with such a force when you could have just called your lady love?” Richard tapped the paper against his temple questioningly. I grabbed the sheaf and stuffed it in my pocket.

“Joseph Goode.” I stated clearly. Richard took a few steps back before smiling and pointing a finger at me. He sat back against his desk and pulled his suspenders over his shoulders.

“You are missing a big piece in why Triss is involved in that particular puzzle.” The Winter’s progenitor tapped his knuckles on his hardwood desk for a second, as if he was trying to rephrase something in his mind.

“Triss was a young woman when I turned her and, I’ll freely admit, I turned her for selfish reasons. She looked so, so, much like one of the children I lost, that I couldn’t just leave her farming dirt with her family.” He looked aside and smiled bashfully.

“I protected her from everything for years, and twenty or so years after I turned her, she snuck off. She came back eventually, but she never told me where she went. I found out, oh, sixty years ago she turned her useless lump of a brother.” Winters pointed his finger at me.

 

“That unbranded bastard is her connection to Goode.” Winters walked around his desk and sat down in his chair. I looked outside the door and still saw nothing. I needed to leave.

“Two questions before you leave.” Winters said in a strange tone. I felt my feet rooted to the ground. I looked at him and was reminded of the same power Oona emitted.

“I guess I owe you that, considering your office.” I agreed, thinking about putting a slug in his skull to get out of his grasp.

“Have you ever heard of Psychologist Carl Jung and his idea of a shadow side?” I shook my head no.

“I digress, Jung suggested that inside everyone was simply a darker personality that everyone let slip every once in a while. In this shadow lies all the wants and needs we deny ourselves out of propriety. Those embraced it wholly were branded criminals, psychotics, or worse. When I look at you I see two very different men. A man who lives in the shadows, practically bathing and blood, and a man clawing his way into the light.” Winter’s elaborated his sentences with great motions of his hands. I pushed down a lump in my throat.

“Your next question?” I asked in a low voice. He leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed, and smiled at me.

 

“Do you let my daughter bite you?” He asked lecherously. I broke out into a cold sweat when I heard running footsteps somewhere behind me.

“Thought so. Run” he nodded his head towards the cracked window behind him. I took his advice and broke the window with two shells from my Saiga. After the window was broken I jumped out of the window into a snow drift that I wished was just a little bit bigger. I spit out some snow and wadded out of the thick snow, pushing my way towards my town car. By the time I was near the parking lot I could hear shouting and badly aimed rifle fire pinging off the ground and cars near me. Thankfully nobody radioed the parking attendant and I got out of the factory area without any problems.

I pulled the paper Winters gave me from my pocket and looked and looked it over. It was a current resident list for a corporate apartment complex, which lined up with Triss’ story from the beginning. I smacked my wheel, hating the doubt I was forced to feel about her. All of it could be worked out later though. I illegally parked in front of the building and flashed my wallet, without the glamour, at the concierge. He seemed confused as I strode past him to the elevators, and I didn’t feel like giving him any help at the moment. There wasn’t much of a chance that Triss was in her apartment, but there was a small one nonetheless. I took the elevator up to her floor and tapped my foot impatiently on the ride up. Once I was out of the elevator I walked up to her door, which was one of two on the floor, and found it already ajar. There were sounds of movement inside. I pulled my pistol and pushed the door with my toe.

“Hi” I heard someone say just before I was hit in the head with something shaped like a fist.

 

Chapter 16

 

“Yeah, he did. He was. So what do I do with him?” I heard an annoyed male voice say as consciousness slowly filtered back to me. I hadn’t passed out fully, at least I didn’t think so, but I had been limp enough for the man to duct tape my hands to a heavy end table. I shook the pain out of my eyes and looked around me. I was in a massive apartment that was filled to the brim with small collectibles from every conceivable continent and genre of entertainment. I looked to my right and saw a gangly man with red hair holding a small Mad Max style shotgun in a cybernetic hand talking on a cell phone inside an office.

“What do you mean leave him? He knows what the Messiah is planning!” The man kicked the large desk in the middle of the room, firmly implanting it into the wall. That meant, at the very least, he was a vampire. I started working on my tape and hoped I could at least get to some aspirin for my head before the shit bird killed me.

“I said leave him!” I heard a distorted voice shout over the cell phone. At least someone was in my corner of the ring. The tape wasn’t getting any weaker, but it was starting to stretch with my continued motion. I kept a small knife in a belt loop for the few chance occasions where my hands were tied behind my back, but them being above my head was an entirely different problem.

“The office?” He asked sullenly. Waving his shotgun at Triss’ slightly destroyed office.

“Fine.” The redhead said petulantly before pushing the phone into the pocket of his jeans. He looked at me and pointed the double barreled shotgun at me with a little wave, taking small steps forward.

“You are becoming quite the pain in the ass.” He stopped just out of range of my feet and kneeled down, using his gun to balance himself out.

“I do wish we’d been introduced sooner though. Charlie Price.” Price held out his silver cybernetic hand for a second as if he wanted me to shake it.

“Right, you’re a little tied up.” He laughed at his own overused joke and smiled at me.

“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” I asked skeptically. He nodded his head to one side and snapped a finger.

“Good point. I’m sure little Triss hasn’t been too forthcoming about her past.” He dug around through Triss’ knick-knacks, tossing the ones he didn’t want carelessly to the floor, until he found what he wanted. When Charlie found what he wanted, the redhead resumed his position.

“This is the Price family.” He held up a digitally reprinted photo in an antique picture frame. The picture showed a whole family, four girls, two boys, a dog, grandparents, and parents, in front of a large tractor and barn. Triss had the picture on her phone, and had shown me it more than once. I had asked the names of her siblings, and her elders, but she could never bring herself to say their names. I didn’t know her specific reasoning, but I did talk to another vampire about it once. Many vampires, especially the older ones with bigger families, felt like they were abandoning those they loved. He may have been strapped to a chair with a corkscrew in his shoulder, but I trusted his word.

“Triss is right there, and I’m just over here. You see, she was a Price before she was a Winters.” He gave general directions with the end of his shotgun. I simply nodded with an uninterested smile. I would know Triss’ smile no matter how bad the quality of photo. Charlie looked at the picture for a few more seconds before setting it on the table behind me.

“Now, let’s get down to brass tacks.” Triss’ brother sat on his rear and pointed the gun at my stomach.

“I can’t kill you, and Triss would be awful disappointed if I went about maiming you.” We both shared a slight nod over that.

 

“So, you are going to stay there while I go take care of some business, and if you love little Triss as much as she loves you, you will get out of town right after you get out of that tape.” He stood up with the help of his gun and backpedaled towards the door.

“Oh, even though I expected little Triss’ pet human to be a little prettier, it was nice to see you. Maybe I’ll see you at your wedding.” With that odd sentiment Charlie Price was gone from Triss’ apartment. I shook my head and looked at the tape above me. How was something like that related to Triss? I pulled my throbbing head up to the tape and managed to get my teeth into it. My hands were getting raw from the tape as my teeth ground into the sticky stuff. It was no wonder they made astronauts tape each other up when one of them went bat shit.

“Finally.” I groaned when my hands came free. What was left of the tape came off my wrists easily. It didn’t come off my suit so well though. That will be a conversation to have with my, potential, future brother-in-law very soon. When I stood up my balance went on hiatus and I fell over onto Triss’ well carpeted floor. After moaning uselessly for a few seconds, I pushed myself up with the help of the stand I had been taped to.

“We good?” I asked my legs after a few wobbly seconds. Once they decided not to fail me I headed into Triss’ office. If Charlie’s conversation was anything to go by, I interrupted him just before he got rid of something important. There was a small horde of filing cabinets on the right wall, multiple screens covering the left wall, and there was a large tack board white board combination where the desk penetrated the wall. What I didn’t see was a computer. Every businessman, or woman, needed a computer. Or an android with a display screen. I moved closer to the large steel desk, grabbed a foot, and pushed on it until the whole thing fell out of the concrete. It was surprisingly easy, making me feel much stronger than I actually was.

“Here, puter, puter, puter.” I whistled gently, waving concrete dust out of my face. The one end of the desk was completely trashed, and all of Triss’ papers was scattered onto the floor. I checked inside the door and lucked out on the third one. There was a sleek little black aluminum computer with a Winters W etched onto the top. After sliding open the top I found it wanted three different verifications right off the top. I pulled out my phone and started dialing my not so favorite computer technician.

“Come on.” I complained after the fifth ring. I fished out a small USB device and plugged it into an open port.

“Yo?” Adrian Flynt answered. Adrian was a short, fat, quintessentially Italian man who could find the popes porn folder and would put it on the Cartoon Network website. He believed in absolute freedom of information and was in the process of buying a building for God only knows what.

“How does 10k for ten minutes sound?” I asked as I pressed the little green button on the USB device. I heard Adrian put down a bag of chips and lick his fingers.

“Sounds good. The key in?” There was a little typing in the background.

“Already turned on.” I took a few steps away from the computer and stared at the screen. It took less than twenty seconds for the three blank spaces to fill in and the screen to go to desktop.

“Ohh, Winters?” Adrian murmured enthusiastically.

“Yeah, does that change anything?” I asked quickly, worried that he might not be able to help me.

“Not for you. What are you looking for anyways?” I heard Flynt slurp down something before hitting a few more keys. It took me a few seconds.

“The owner of the computer is working with a group called the New Dawn. She’s pretty high ranking, and should know who the next victim of a strong of murders is.” I said over my phones low battery beep. I’d been home for three days, but I still haven’t charged the phone in nearly a week.

“That’s all well and good, but I can only search specific things, you know that. Give me names, dates, places, times, proper nouns. We’ve done this before Bones.” Adrian complained over the line. I sighed and pulled up a mental list of everything I could. Tania Lestadule’s body prostrate on red sheets. Hardboiled Detective Truman Jefferson Abraham. Sonya Richeg, torn to pieces. Both girls addresses. The rave where Mab was attacked. Charlie Price.

“I got a hit on the addresses.” Adrian said excitedly over the phone. I heard him slurping down more of his drink. Leaning onto the desk I saw a file pulled up on the laptop.

“It’s a list of addresses, names that look a bit like the two girls, and times.” He slowly lowered the list remotely for me. He must not have gotten a match from the names because Triss was categorizing them with their more base Fae names. The addresses were obvious, but the times? What were the times?

They were their routines.

“What’s the next address and time?” I asked promptly. He made a small distressed sound and the screen scrolled down a bit more.

“Lilly Yanerva. A café called Fairy Fuel fifteen or so blocks from you.” Flynt pulled up a map on the screen for me and highlighted the best route. I traced my finger along the green line and bemoaned the traffic I was going to run into. Most people would be getting out of work soon.

“What is the timetable in the file?” My heart was starting to hammer in my chest. Fae were intractable creatures of habit. Once something that piqued their interest came along, it was nearly impossible to stop them from enjoying it. The screen flipped back to the open file.

“It’s between 4 and 4:30. It probably fluctuates due to traffic and lines in the café.” I looked at my dirty watch. It was already 3:55. Even if I was already in my car, Charlie Price had a 15 minute head start on me. I swore and started running towards the elevator.

“Any chance I can get that computer?” Adrian asked as I hammered the elevator button.

“No go. I’m already in the elevator, but the USB thingy is still in it. I have to go.” He mumble something about that being almost as good when my phone gave me another low battery warning and I hung up. The all steel elevator was agonizingly slow, the Muzak grating every fiber of my already pounding head. When the elevator finally hit the first floor I burst out the door, much to the concierges’ consternation, and jumped into my badly parked car.

Traffic was, as always, a mess. The sidewalk was much clearer though. I jumped the curb, honked my horn at the human and Fae pedestrians, and hoped I didn’t hit anything harder than an umbrella. The sidewalks were well salted, and the frightened people were more than happy to get out of my way as I sped down the mix of hard plastic, coble, and concrete walkway. The ‘road’ to Fairy Fuel was a relatively straight one, making my one turn onto an intersection nearly painless. I heard sirens and the sound of crushing metal behind me, but that was something I would worry about later. Right now, my mind was on Lilly. I didn’t know what she looked like, I didn’t know if she was cruel, I didn’t know if she was capable of any sort of kindness, I didn’t know if she deserved to live another second of her life, but I didn’t know she didn’t deserve to have someone else decide how her life should end.

After a rough turn into traffic I saw an all glass corner café with a large yellow neon sign hanging on by little more than hopes and dreams. The road was packed, but I could see Mr. Price getting out of an ostentatiously large red truck on the opposite side of the café. I saw an opening in the road and gunned my little town car around an electric shoebox of a vehicle towards the coffee shop. There was a small parking place for smart cars, which my car most certainly wouldn’t fit in, that aimed for. Charlie must have seen me because he pulled his little shotgun and let fly with both barrels. I’d never actually tested getting shot at in this particular car, but the car certainly didn’t seem to enjoy having its hood perforated with buckshot. Four airbags instantly exploded and my wheel locked up. I swore and felt my face and chest get burned and bashed around before my car came to a very abrupt halt. The airbags slowly began to deflate.

“What the hell was that?” I complained when I realized I’d crashed into the heavy steel bar of the Fairy Fuel. The patrons seemed to be okay, most leaping further right into the bar. I blinked my airbag burned eyes a few times to see a poor crocked open android spewing heated latte onto my cracked windshield. I quickly got my bearings and looked left towards wear Charlie Price was. He, and his large red truck had been replaced by a black SUV and four goons in tactical gear. I swore again and began ripping at my deflated airbags. After more swearing I was able to free my tomahawk and start slicing my way free of the nylon fabric. Bullets started to probe my car just as I rolled out of the front seat and leapt over my hood. I pried open my passenger door and grabbed my Saiga, knowing I’d need it momentarily, when I realized I’d nearly crashed into a woman in a thin yellow dress that would do nothing against the cold. She was short, but nearly all leg and yellow hair.

“Are you okay?” I asked quickly, making sure my car hadn’t pinned her to the bar. The car had missed her by mere inches, but that wasn’t what my eyes were drawn too.

“Lilly Yanerva?” I asked hesitantly as more bullets started to ping off the car. The young looking woman cradled her bulging stomach closer and looked up at me with tear stained eyes. She was nothing like what I expected. None of the Unseelie Fae Gentry had been what I expected. The ones inside Arcadia with Oona and Fin Bheara were the typical Unseelie elf, violent, volatile, cruel, but not the ones I was seeing outside. Each seemed to live a peaceful life. Lilly, though, she seemed to have the innocence of a child. I could easily replace the little girl in the pink snowsuit dancing so happily in the snow three days ago with this beautiful creature.

“Yes…” She whispered hesitantly before a round took out the coffee android, covering us in unground coffee beans. I took her hand and crouched down a little lower to look in her eyes.

“My name is Jim Bones, and I am a representative of the Unseelie Court. I am here for your protection” I said as comfortingly as possible. Usually when I tell someone I work with the Unseelie Court they start to run. It was a little strange to receive a hug from someone with such tiny arms. I lightly pushed her behind my car’s engine bloc and moved closer to my cars back tire. The goons seemed intent on keeping my head down so they could flank us. That wasn’t going to fly with me.

 

 

 

Chapter 17

 

“Stay down!” I shouted to the customers who weren’t smart enough to run away, making the universal arm motion for ‘put your ass on the floor’. Most of them had enough sense to hug the floor, others tried to run and were catching stray rounds. I swore and leaned around the back end of my car. Two of the men were simply walking forward spraying bullets at random, the other two were nowhere to be seen. One problem at a time.

I changed my footing and leaned further out from behind my bumper, shooting a few armor piercing slugs at the men in the street. Most of them missed, but one of them punched through the left shooters chest plate, putting him down for the rest of the game. The remaining man in the street decided to changed tactics and ducked behind the engine of a small truck, focusing his fire on my bumper. At the same time his two friends popped out from behind a car across the street on my left and started lighting up the café. I swore and rushed towards Lilly. She was so light it was easy to lift her over the bar, and I had a little help from a stray bullet giving me and my vest a little push.

“Gah, that hurt!” I shouted, pushing a hand under the vest to check if the round made it through. It had certainly punched a hole in my suit. My tailor was going to fire me at this rate.

“What was that?” I asked as my legs started to get warm. I looked above me, expecting the sad android to have been defiled once again. Lilly made a distressed sound beside me. I looked at her and saw a little puddle pooling around her designer shoes.

“Did your water just break?” I asked dubiously. She made the tinniest little nod and smiled. I could feel the blood drain from my face. To clear my head I stood up, despite the bullets, and emptied what was left of my magazine at the two men across the street. It had the effect of killing one of them and bringing me back to a place of calm. All in all, a good trade. I took a deep breath and reloaded my shotgun, all the while looking at the frightened Fae.

“Stay here.” I politely ordered Lilly before jumping over the right side of the bar, heading towards the man who was in the road. He completely missed me running into the street and lining up my shotgun. One slug punched right through his helmet. As I maneuvered around abandoned cars I saw the last man inching his way towards the Fairy Fuel café. I fired two armor piecing slugs at him. It was a short run to his side.

“Don’t move!” I shouted as I kicked away his rifle and pulled his pistol and a small knife off his belt. There were some zip-ties on his vest so I grabbed those and did up his hands and feet before slinging him over my shoulder and dumping him in the back of his running SUV.

“Lilly!” I shouted over the growing cacophony of sirens and the ringing in my ears. She stood up behind the bar, taking small wobbly steps towards me, as I popped my trunk and grabbed my duffel bag. When she was near the edge of the bar I picked her up and started towards the SUV.

“How’s the hospital sound?” I asked sarcastically as I laid Lilly onto the generous seats of the SUV. She nodded and grabbed my hand before I could close the door.

“Thank you.” She said with a pained look on her face. I patted her hand and closed the door once she took it off of me. Thank you’s weren’t exactly a part of my job description. Once my duffle bag was on the passenger seat I got on the clearer than normal road and headed towards Wayne County hospital. Wayne County, also known as Skye general, was the only place in the world where you could get a doctor prescribed exorcism or see a Selkie treated for dehydration. In general, it was a freaking madhouse. If I had any choice, I went to any other nearby hospital, but a Fae birth required a special doctor or a very special midwife. If Lilly, who was starting to make unholy sounds in the back of my stolen car, had paired with something abnormally large, there could be a half-grown teenager trying to claw its way out of her right now.

“You can do it, Lilly!” I stepped on the gas at that thought and put a hand back for her to grab. She took my hand and nearly broke it in half. I wanted to go even faster, but I was afraid to hit a bump and make her rapidly growing pain even worse. I would be the first to admit I didn’t know anything about a standard pregnancy and how fast pain levels could rise, but this seemed ridiculous. Thankfully the industrial sized hospital was coming into view. I rushed into the emergency department, parking illegally again, and carried Lilly inside.

“I’ve got a Fae in labor here!” the relatively bored people in the nearly empty ward simply stared at me for a few seconds as Lilly groaned in my arms.

“Help.” I begged. In a few seconds a gurney appeared out of nowhere and she was being rushed off into the bowels of the hospital. I let loose a deep sigh and leaned against the nearest surface. A nurse came near me with a red medics bag and tried to pull my vest off.

“Ho,ho.” I politely pushed her hands away.

“Sir, you’re covered in blood, you look like you’ve been in a car accident, there is a knot on your head the size of my grandbabies head, and you’ve got more firepower on you than a Rambo movie. We can ignore the last part for a while as long as we get you fixed up.” She explained in a slow calmness that made me reevaluate my last few hours. I nodded my head from side to side and rolled my eyes before pointing towards where Lilly was hauled off.

“You saw that girl getting hauled off?” I asked haltingly, a small feeling of pride welling in my chest. She nodded curtly.

“I have failed incessantly at saving people just like her not just for the last three days, but for a good deal of my adult life. Worse than that, I have caused the kind of pain that brings them here in the first place. So if I can leave here looking like I got into a fight with an angle grinder to do the same thing just one more time, there is no way on this earth you can stop me.” I took the nurses hand in mine and kissed my thumb above her knuckles.

“It’s nice of you to worry though.” I smiled at her dumbfounded look before I walked back towards my new car and patient of my own.

Near the south-west end of the wall built to keep the Fae in Skye is a collection of old warehouses, apartment complexes, schools that would make the worst of New York City balk in horror, and everything that makes an Unseelie Fae smile. I own a small warehouse built right against the wall, that I got dirt cheap, that I use to get snippets of information out of people who are less than forthcoming. Usually I just have to threaten to toss the people outside in nothing more than their underwear to get what I need.

“Do you know where we are?” I asked the goon as I took a few turns towards my warehouse. He stayed quiet, but I was pretty sure he could see outside the tinted windows. This was the Free-fire zone right after the wall went up. The towers may have been taken down, but the threat of being killed in the blink of an eye was still very real. I pulled into my rusty warehouse, bullet holes, random bits of wood, burnt out barrel fires, walls covered in shit and all. What made this such an attractive location to me, besides the horrifying ambience, was the large office with the nigh impregnable door I installed in the back. After I dragged out the gunslinger by the leg, which caused a good bit of screaming, I heard a street vendor hawking fried bio-cubes.

“Want a few?” I asked cordially. He shook his head, so I walked off towards the man’s voice. Fried bio-cubes, Bicus, were a horrendous fried treat made out of the same mystery meat as the servers in the Seelie Court. It was greasy, morally grey, inhuman, and a guilty pleasure of everyone with two taste buds to rub together. I caught up to the man and his run down little cart on the corner. The cart showed uncooked meat in a clear tube and boiling grease in another.

“Four please.” I said as I pulled out a couple dollars. The man took my money, impaled four pale pieces of mystery meat on a bamboo skewer, and dunked them in the grease. Thirty seconds later he pulled out four perfectly cook Bicus and handed them to me with a napkin. I was about to walk off when I had a thought.

“Are you an independent vendor or do you work for someone who owns a whole bunch of carts?” I asked just before biting into the greasy piece of brilliance. The man shrugged and played with his hat.

“I’m independent, but I pay my dues if you know what I mean.” He grumbled unhappily. I nodded after another nibble.

“Is that camp of homeless still set up under the overpass?” I asked as I pulled out my wallet. The man’s eyes started to go wide.

“Yeah, it, it is.” He stuttered slightly. I slapped a large portion of my cash into his hand.

“I want you to round up a few other carts, and get down there. Feed as many as you can for as long as you can.” He started to pull his hand back greedily, but I held onto the money and leaned in close.

“Before you think of anything funny, remember this. I own that warehouse.” I pointed to the one everybody knew to avoid. He swallowed hard and took the money a little more slowly. I turned on my heel and was heading back towards the SUV with another bite of my greasy treat.

“I should have got some salt.” I complained as I got closer to the man I left by my new car. When I got to the SUV he was mostly naked, no helmet, no vest, no shoes, no pants, and a giant bullet wound below his knee. I finished my treat and sat down next to the brown haired man’s head, playing with my bamboo skewer. He was looking rather pale, but the cold was making sure his wound wasn’t bleeding overmuch. I stared at the man for a few minutes, unsure where to start. Should I tell him what a nice set up I had in the warehouse, the old option A or B? Should I ask him if he was a true believer or just a hired gun? How about the classic good cop bad cop with just one person? They think you’re a nut that way. Maybe I should just ask a question and beat him until he says something?

 

“I don’t know anything?” The man blurted out, his breath gaining a red color from the slowly setting sun. I scratched my eyebrow and looked down at the shivering man.

“That is the worst way to start off something like this. That instantly tells me you know something.” I tapped his nose with the blunt end of my skewer, making him thrash in the light dusting of snow.

“Besides, you know your name. You know that the sun rises every day. I assume you know a bit of math. Your favorite color, your first kiss, how to tie your shoes, how to shave, shower, jerk off, the list goes on. You see everyone know something. It’s all about finding the right something.” I rotated in the snow and leaned against the wheel of the SUV. The man was shivering pretty badly.

“Is there a blanket in the car?” He shook his head no. I blew out a breath picked up the goon before tossing him back into the SUV’s backseat. I got in and sat across from him, putting my back against the window.

“Now, I’m tired, your shot, let’s skip the bit where I torture you for hours until you spit out the one sentence I want to find what I need.” I said deliberately.

“Eat me.” He said with a smile. I dropped my shoulders in dismay and jammed my bamboo skewer into thigh a little less than playfully. It didn’t break skin, but he didn’t like it.

“Let me tell you a story before you make any decisions.” The man bent in his legs, despite the bullet wound, to get them away from me.

“I was born on a U.S Naval Base in Iceland. When it closed we emigrated to Iceland, but I ended up joining the U.S for the Texas secession anyways. I was a boots on the ground marine for… what felt like forever. When we weren’t fighting from second to second for our lives we were fighting for our minds against boredom hour to hour.” I saw a pack of cigarettes lying on the floor and quickly snatched it up. There was a small Bic lighter inside. After pulling out one killing stick I pretended to be a good boy and broke off a third of the cigarette. Better to have a little less poison than a whole dose of it. I lit the thing and greedily sucked in the smoke.

“As I was saying. Every day was boring, but not every day ended up staying that way. Some days we went on patrol and ended up running into unarmored trucks with light machine guns literally duct taped to the hood of a truck. One day, we ran into a giant on our side of the line. Damn thing picks up one of my friends and rips him in half. He came after me next, but here’s the kicker, I was issued a dress saber that was supposed to do something against Fae. I cut the bastards fingers off just before one of my ‘buddies’ blew three holes in me.”

“That sucks.” The man across from me sympathized as I blew my smoke into the back of the SUV.

“When I was in a hospital, in Memphis Tennessee, some dope in a suit had a question for me. He asked if I had the fortitude to change the course of the war.” I couldn’t say much about a man in a suit anymore, considering my daily choice of clothing.

“Sounds like the start of a superhero movie” He said with a laugh. I nodded and took another drag of my nearly dead cigarette.

“I said yes, and four days later I they injected me with some stuff that cost more than I made in a year to get me moving. The suit showed back up and took me into a room with an innocent looking little Brownie. Mind you, this is when the Fae were still considered hostile at best. I was suspicious of them, but nowhere near hostile. The suit told me that the program would need me to extract information from man and Fae alike. He wanted me to pop my cherry on that fluffy little thing.” I looked at my cigarette as it burned down towards the filter. The cherry red ash staring me in the eye, judging me for my actions. It knew that all my acts of kindness, killing evil Fae, saving people from the shadows, paying for an entire bar full’s drinks, making a woman smile, leaving exorbitant tips, feeding the homeless, none of it made up for even five seconds of the pain I’ve caused.

“I saw that Brownie not that long ago, still alive somehow, more of a robot than a Fae, and it made me sick.” I handed the cigarette to the man in front of me and he instinctively took the last pull of it.

“There was not a single original limb left on that poor beast. No eyes, ears, fingers, hands, arms, feet, legs, genitals, nose, most of its stomach, all of it, just gone. If something so weak can survive that, what do you think I can do to you?” He really seemed to think about that as I pulled out another cigarette, lit it, and handed it over to him.

“Enjoy that, because it will be the last one you will ever have if you give me the wrong answer.” I didn’t have to menace him, my calm monotone had done enough of that. He stared at the cigarette as if I had poisoned it, unsure if he wanted to chance enjoying it one way or another.

“Lady Winters took hair from your apartment to track Ms. Ulster. The Boys are going after her at nightfall.” He said before putting the cigarette in the small ashtray.

“Smart move.” I said before looking out the window. It was nearly night now, and I was halfway across the city.

“If you don’t move and shut the hell up, you can stay in the car.” I said as I leapt over the center console into the driver’s seat. It was cold outside, so he kept quiet.  
Chapter 18

 

I swore at my phone after the fourth time it beeped at me and threw it against the passenger side door. Sure, you can play the game with the cat’s and the birds, but you can’t make a call, your battery is too low.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” I hopefully asked the tied up naked man in my backseat. When he didn’t answer I turned around to look at him.

“Do you?” I asked impatiently.

“You told me not to talk.” He whispered over the sound of the engine. At least something was going the way I wanted. The sun was nearly set and I had no way to contact Luther or Mab. If I hadn’t let the dumbass behind me get rolled to scare him I would probably have a spare phone, but ambiance can have a great effect on the mind. I smashed my fist on the steering wheel a few times in aggravation and stared at the road ahead of me. The area in and around what used to be the free-fire zone was almost always a low traffic area, making my drive mostly painless. I turned around and looked and looked at the man in my backseat again.

“What’s your name?” He pointed a finger at himself, as if asking to make sure I was talking to him. I nodded to get him to talk.

“Ashton Cave…Sir.” He answered a little more curtly than I expected. My story must have scared him a little bit more than I intended. The fact that he still had a severe leg wound I was completely ignoring probably didn’t help.

“You said the Boys are going after Mab at nightfall.” I asked ever so slowly. I could see Ashton’s face in the rearview mirror. He knew where this conversation was going.

“I don’t know how many there are. We operate in cells. You killed all of my team today, and we were in contact with three other small teams. Not all of us are human, and some of us have fully grown synthetics or cybernetics. I’ve even heard of one cell having a mech.” His voice grew excited near the end. It made me wonder.

“Do you really believe in all of this? Killing innocent Fae? Children?” I wasn’t livid, my attention was on the road, but it was a near thing. He shrugged.

“Did you believe in what the Marines were doing? I just fell into it, and I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I quit now. The New Dawn is my life, and it has been for a long time now.” Cave said sadly. There was nothing in his words I couldn’t sympathize with.

“This car is going to stop in five or six minutes, and I’m probably going to be shooting at some of your friends.” He made a small sound as I turned to look at him again.

“If you have any sense of self-preservation, you will get your ass out of this car and hobble as far away as you can.” I turned back to the road and turned onto the street that would take me towards Luther’s house.

“Maybe join one of those fluffy cults that screw nymphs all the time.” I suggested with a snort. I could see three more black SUV’s parked across from Luther’s house. What was it with bad guys and SUV’s?

“What if I want to find you?” Ashton asked as I stepped on the gas.

“It depends on if I die in the next few hours!” I shouted right before I pinned two men in tactical gear between my nice new stolen car and their SUV. Once my mind rolled back into place I grabbed my duffel bag and made a beeline towards Luther’s backyard. He had one of tiny fences that couldn’t keep out an ankle-biter, so I jumped that and landed on too little snow. I swore and scrambled over the icy tiles towards Luther’s kitchen door.

“Luther!” I shouted as low as I could between frantic knocks on his back door. When he finally opened the door he was holding a short baseball bat.

“Did you do that?” He asked with a thumb pointed outside? I made a noncommittal sound and pushed my way into the house.

“Where’s Mab?” I asked impetuously, dumping my bag on the kitchen table and pulling out something I’d generally kept in the back of my town car.

“Taking a shower. What happened to your head?” Luther asked, looked at the monstrosity I was pulling out of my duffel.

“It’s been a long day, I’m not quite sure I remember. Help me get this on.” I said as I heaved the majority of the suits weight onto my back.

“What the hell is it?” Luther stared at the massive yellow armed metal jacket that gave my arms an extra foot and a half of reach while covering my entire torso in various metals.

“It’s my High intensity terrain trenching suit.” I set the massive arms down by my legs, pulled my actual arms out of the actuator sockets, and grabbed my Saiga from the bag.

“Can I borrow one of those snazzy pistols?” Luther asked as he rooted around in his kitchen drawer. He eventually came out with a thick leather belt that had a thin worn holster and three nylon pouches strapped to it. I’d fought alongside Luther once before, and knew that he carried an eight inch steel ratchet extension covered in runes and a handful of sockets to match. Runes, as Luther explained to me, bypass the need to focus a spell in the heat of the moment. That gave Luther and his low power pool the perfect opportunity to play.

“Feel free.” Luther picked up a small machine pistol and matching magazine before smiling at me. In two seconds flat his smile disappeared.

“Get down!” Luther charged at me, talking me from his kitchen into the hallway between his kitchen and living room. Before I could voice any protest gunfire crackled throughout the house. Luther and I both screamed together as everything above us started to explode. Wood splintered, furniture ripped, curtains shredded, magazines flew, glassware crack, and lamps burst into shards. I rolled over onto Luther, putting my armored torso over his head.

 

“What happened to a tactical entry?” I shouted out the holey front door once the New Dawn’s rifles ran dry. My ears were barely functioning, and I doubted Luther’s were doing any better, so I gave him general hand motions to stay down stairs. The arms of my HITT suit bumped into what was left of the furniture as I dashed towards the stairs, but I was glad I had them when the gunfire picked back up. I took a flying leap up the stairs and scrambled upwards, thanking whatever idiot decided rugs looked good on wooden stairs. When I got to the top I wondered if they really cared if they shot Mab to pieces. They wanted to kill her one way or another, so did it matter to them how she died?

“Mab?” I asked in a voice I hoped was quiet after I knocked on the bathroom door. The door blew open with invisible force and a handful of bullets followed behind it. Thankfully the bullets went over my head, my back too busy getting comfortable with the wooden floor. Mab leaned out of the bathroom door in a towel, which did little to hide her soaked legs due to the baby bump, and pointed her suppressed pistol at me.

“Bones? What the hell is going on?” Mab asked as if I was the one who shot at her. I pulled in a wheezing breath, my lungs still not sure they wanted to work after the blast of magic, and gave her the best shrug I could manage. Mab waved her pistol over her body until the towel morphed into her jeans, t-shirt, chainmail, and hoodie. I rolled over and pushed myself to my knees, grabbing my shotgun on the way up.

“Stay up here, Goode’s men are here.” I explained in a choked voice. Mab reached into the bathroom, pulled her bag off the sink, and grabbed a magazine for her pistol from inside of it.

“If I can’t put holes in them I’ll just light them on fire.” Mab said blandly. I turned on my heel and waved a finger at her.

“No fire. Luther paid this house off last year.” Mab seemed to have a retort, but I bounded down the stairs before she could launch it.

“Luther!” I shouted questioningly as I bounced off a shredded wall and leaned my weight against it. The holes in the walls let me see outside, and the goons outside were doing the menacingly slow walk towards the house. Where were the cops when you actually did need them?

“Luther!” I shouted again. He grabbed my shoulder from behind, almost making me elbow him in the face, and pulled me into his wrecked office.

“Let’s go out the window.” Luther suggested with a wave of the pistol he borrowed. 

“Good idea, we can go around and flank them.” I clapped Luther on the shoulder and started to bash out the window with my shotgun.

“I was thinking more along the lines of having Mab jump out a window and running away, but that works too.” Luther complained morosely. I heard him sigh before picking up his more battered than usual chair and launching it through the large window. We both followed it out and ran into the snow towards the leftwards neighbor’s lawn. After a fight with a particularly large and frozen bush, we had a good spot next to a picket fence overlooking Luther’s lawn. The men in tactical gear were either kicking in doors and windows or simply pushing through the destroyed wood. That meant at least a few of them were vampires. I set the Saiga on my knee and unhooked my last two fragmentation grenades from my vest. I looked at Luther as soon as he saw them.

“Aw, come on, Bones.” He complained immediately. My cheeks flushed in shame, but they were all bunched up in his living room.

“Sorry, buddy.” I said before tucking my Saiga under my arm and charging towards his house with two grenades in hand. Just before I launched the two 1 pound grenades, I felt bad for cajoling Mab on her intention to use fire. Once the grenades cleared the walls of the house I jumped into Luther’s mostly frozen bushes. In just a few seconds two, separate and loud dull explosions blasted throughout Luther’s living room. Generally dirt is kicked up by a grenade, this time it was wood and chunks of furniture mixed with body parts. I pushed my way into Luther’s house, still bumping into things with the HITT suit, shotgun first. Four men were on the ground in the living room that weren’t getting up. The grenade completely missed one of them, so I put a few slugs through his vest. When I turned my gun towards the kitchen one of the New Dawn goons leaned out and fired a few rounds from a rifle. My HITT suit caught them, but it still knocked me on my ass. I dumped half my magazine in his direction as I fell.

“You little…” I swore and pushed myself up as quickly as I could. The goon retreated further into the kitchen, so I followed him. When I leaned around the corner he was crouched next to the smoking oven. He swore loudly and fired his rifle, blowing holes in the wall and forcing me to the floor. After more swearing I crawled in his direction and aimed at his feet. It became a superfluous effort when Gabby burst out of the oven, unhinged her jaw, and fit the man’s head in her mouth. I couldn’t see what was happening, but she was gnawing on his throat, he was screaming, and he was doing his best to get the Imp off of him. In the end he fell over and Gabby let go of his skin stripped skull. I gulped and stood up slowly.

“Thanks Gabby.” She flicked an imaginary speck of dust off her shoulder before pulling a cigar out of her pouch and climbing back into the heated oven. That was scary.

“Jim!” I heard Luther scream from inside the living room. Four short step and I knew exactly what he was screaming at.

“Take this and get Mab to Deon, he’ll find you.” I as I tossed the Saiga Luther. He was a tall man, but the beast of a shotgun made him look ridiculously tiny.

“What are you going to do?” Luther asked as he shouldered the shotgun and started backing towards the stairs.

“How long does it take you to get up the stairs and jump out a window?” I asked as I pushed my arms into the HITT suits actuators and activated the trenching blades. The three large fingers slid back into the heavy rounded wrist of the arm and started to spin at an impossible speed. The High Impact Terrain Trencher was meant to dig trenches besides roads and in snow, making it perfect for tearing apart Fae and bigger cyborgs. I had never tried it on a mech before.

“Buy me thirty seconds.” Luther said as he ran up the stairs. I charged at the rounded steel mech as Luther mounted the second step. If I could kill a Goblin with a knife and a synapse suit, I could hold off a police issue mech with a mace for thirty second. 

Half a step out of the doorway the mech swung it’s mace at me. A dive forward and left took me just out of range, and made me thankful the weapon didn’t have spikes. It also afforded me a good look at the weapon itself. The mech’s skinny semi-synthetic arms were easily eight feet long, and the mace had a haft of at least six feet, with a heavy metal ball at least 6 foot wide and three foot tall. Meaning it had a total reach of too fucking much. I pushed my feet under me and kept running towards its legs to try my trenching blades against whatever armor it was made of. When I finally got within arm’s reach the metal behemoth dropped its mace and smashed me aside with the inside of his palm. I could feel my arm being hit through the heavy metal but, unlike Mab’s magical assault on my chest, it was an alien sensation. My unprotected legs were another story. As I rolled in the snow my legs smashed against what felt like every hard surface imaginable. After pushing myself back up I saw the mech had picked its mace back up. More importantly, my trenching blades had nicked the semi-synthetic arm. Important fluids, maybe hydraulic fluid or something akin to wet-solder, was leaking out of the tiny slice in the pinkish skin. The idea of the semi-synthetic in the police issue mech was full mobility so as not to scare civilians, especially children. What’s better for public relations than a massive death bot handing a flower to a child? So they grow a synthetic limb, obviously larger and more powerful than normal, and line it with cybernetic parts. That makes the arms a weak point, full of important fluids that the mech couldn’t run without.

 

“Bingo.” I said as I charged towards the mech. It raised the mace for a sideswipe, making my only line of escape running really fast or jumping over a fast moving hunk of steal. I decided to take a bi-partisan approach and take another leftward dive as the heavy mace flew my way. The airflow of fast moving weapon nearly knocked me off course. After my roll, and what sounded like an angry roar from the pilot of the mech, I rushed towards the exposed arm of the mech. I took one swing with my trenching blade and nearly cut off its synthetic arm. As it dropped the mace again and tried to sideswipe me with what was left of its arm I jumped towards the rounded shoulder, still on the backswing, and jammed my spinning blades into the mech’s armor. It ground into the metal, screeching louder than my ears could handle and sending sparks flying into my face. I tried to plant my feet on the slippery steel, but I couldn’t find purchase, the cutting blades being the only thing holding me onto the raging machine.

“Jim!”

“Bones!” Luther and Mab shouted over the shrieking of my trenching blades. I pulled myself up just in time to see a massive ball of energy pooling just in front of Luther’s second story windows. Try as I might, my blades wouldn’t wrench free of the mech. The only thing moving them was my weight, slowing dragging me downwards along its shoulder. The pilot of the mech must have gotten some sort of notification because he turned just as the mages released their energy. I screamed as the mech tried to jump away, only to have the ball of doom impact with its spine, sending me spinning away faster than my mind could comprehend.

 

I felt a heavy impact that the HITT suit did nothing to protect me from, but it did shut down the spinning blades. Something must have crushed the back of the suit, cracking the battery and causing the spiking pain in my lower back. I opened my eyes slowly too find a world in motion. Everything was dancing in color, moving left to right and back again. I shook my aching head until my vision cleared, and realized I was upside down. Luther’s house was off to my right, and aside from the ringing in my ears and the cracking sounds from what was left of the mech, everything seemed quiet. I pushed my feet against the wall behind me until I was on my knees.

“I need to get this off.” I gasped to myself as the HITT suit nearly crushed my ribs. It took a bit to rip my arms from the bent actuators, but it wasn’t nearly as hard to fight with the crisped and crushed straps holding the suit against my body.

“You are quite annoying.” I heard an effeminate voice say behind me just as the suit fell off. My pistol came to hand and spun towards the voice just in time for me to be hit with a strange blue goo that pinned me to the ground. Joseph Goode, wearing what looked like a green priest’s habit, was standing in front of me with an unconscious Mab floating next to him.

“I told Triss I wouldn’t kill you personally, but I didn’t say anything about letting you suffocate.” Goode said with a smile as the goop started to creep over my face. I struggled against it and tried to push my pistol against the spell to shoot him as he walked off with Mab.

 

Chapter 19

 

I helplessly watched Goode load Mab into the back of the lead SUV and casually drive off with her into the night just before the hardening goop had completely covered my body. My heart started to pump furiously and my eyes burned as I struggled against the unmoving spell. In a more perfect scenario I would have somewhere around 3 minutes to figure a way out of my predicament but, considering my complete lack of preparation, I probably had closer to a minute and a half before I suffocated. My chest was already burning for air and my nose felt like somebody shoved a lit firework into it for a giggle. Struggling only made it worse as my vision slowly went from red to dark.

My thoughts strayed to my parents back in Iceland. My father, Joseph Bones, was a Naval officer on a small strategic American base. Some way or another that pudgy little handlebar mustached man attracted one of the most beautiful women on the frozen little island. No one understood how the better part of a hippie could stand next to my father for my whole life, but she did. Every single day Ashlyn Bones lit up the small civilian sector of the base. Every day when I came home from school, she was waiting for me, golden hair pulled back and a smile waiting. My father was a jovial sort, but he could never match my mother in spirit. One day we had a General or some other such in our home, and my mom baked her famous pot pie. I don’t remember a word of the conversation, but I do remember my dad got a commendation for that dinner.

I could feel the blood vessels in my head begging for air, making my head throb in pain as yet unknown. Struggling was useless, but my body tried anyways. Ripping, tearing, shredding, wrenching, pushing, pulling, punching, anything to move even an inch. Every pore of my body was immobilized in oxygen free pain. It hurt in a completely different way than when I first met Oona. The Queen of the Unseelie Fae was a sweet devil, capable of infinite pleasure and pain in cycles so fast you weren’t sure which was which. Other times, she made sure you knew. She found me in an abandoned music store, strung out of my mind on painkillers used to install new synthetics, and asked me a question like the suit in the Memphis hospital. Did I want to make a difference? I wasn’t sure if she was speaking English, hell, I wasn’t even sure she was real, so I said yes. I spent the next few months under her boot, begging for more. More drugs. More water. More food. More mercy. More pain. More sex. More blood. More victims. More sunlight. More peace. More. More. More. Until one day she kicked me back onto the street without another word. I wasn’t what I was before, but she turned me into what she wanted. A few weeks later I found a place to live and then the Goat gave me my first assignment.

“Jim!” Luther skidded into view with a hammer and went at the hardened spell covering my face. It slowly started to crack, making it look like a half chewed sucker. If Oona took a broken junkie veteran and toyed with his body and mind for an indeterminate amount of time, what did that do to him? Luther kept hammering at my sealed face. I’ve constantly tried to tell myself I’m not a monster but, what if I was from the word go? Did I deserve to even try to right my wrongs? Luther was almost done breaking the shell on my face. Was I just another Unseelie fiend?

“Don’t!” I screamed with my first breath when my head came free. Luther shouted with victory and used the claw of the hammer to continue to pry me free. Tears started to fall down my oxygen starved face.

“You okay?” Luther asked before smacking at my legs. I nodded meekly and started to help him with the butt of my pistol.

“How did Goode get Mab?” I asked, trying to look over Luther to make sure he was okay. He let out a short laugh.

“Bastard threw me out the window. I don’t know what he did to Mab though.” Luther smashed away some of the last blue chunks and pulled me to my feet.

“Did you see where he went?” Luther asked hopefully.

“Not specifically.” I brushed off some blue crystals and pointed in the direction the SUV went. Luther spit and started walking towards his house. I agreed with the general sentiment and began to follow him.

“Give me a second.” I called out to Luther before catching up with him. He gave me a perplexed look as I walked to the back door of the SUV I crashed earlier. After leveling my pistol I threw open the door. Ashton Cave was shivering to death in the back seat.

“I couldn’t open the door.” He complained with chattering teeth. I tried to suppress a smile and holstered my pistol.

“Who’s this?” Luther questioned as I untied Ashton and helped him out of the car.

“It’s complicated.” I explained as I threw Ashtons arm over my shoulder and helped him limp through the snow towards Luther’s mangled house.

“Does ‘it’s complicated’ explain why he’s in his underwear?” Luther nearly sputtered. I gave him a slight nod as we got inside and directed Ashton towards the kitchen. He gave a shaky nod and limped in that direction. Luther looked from the pile of corpses to his destroyed walls and windows.

“I don’t think my insurance is going to a cover renegade vampire cult attack.” Luther said with a tight voice. I took a step closer to him as he put a hand on his mangled couch.

“I just paid off this damn house.” Tears started to fall slowly down his face. The chemical excitement in his body was wearing off, the adrenalin and everything else long gone.

“I can’t buy Gabby’s cigarettes and pay for repairs.” As soon as he said her name I saw his eyes go wide.

“Gabby!” He screamed aloud. I caught him by the shoulders as he tried to rush into the kitchen. Luther tried to fight his way past me.

“I’m sleeping dammit!” Gabby shouted from her oven. Luther gasped aloud and fell into my chest. I grabbed him in a hug and dropped to the floor with him. Luther let out a deep scream that sounded like it belonged in his spell casting repertoire. That kind of pain came to everyone when the fight gets too close to home, and this fight certainly did that to Luther. I pulled him in a litter closer, held him tight, before purposely breaking off contact. After a few seconds on his own Luther pieced himself back together.

“How are we going to find Mab?” Luther asked with a steadier voice than I expected. I scratched my sore chest and looked at what was left of the ceiling.

“Think you can wrangle up a tracking spell?” Luther shook his head no.

“I don’t have anything of hers here.” He whined gloomily. I had to smile for a second. Triss gave me an idea.

“Luther, you dog, how my girls with black and purple hair do you have showering here?” My voice was filled with sarcasm as I watched understanding dawn on Luther’s face. He bolted up the stairs, a man on a mission. I turned towards the kitchen and walked in, hand cautiously near my pistol. Ashton was stripping the corpse Gabby helped create of its clothes.

“I thought you’d have had enough mugging for one day?” I asked sarcastically, wondering if the New Dawn member might try and grab one of the weapons near him. He had proven he wasn’t entirely stupid, but stupidly has many levels.

“He’s dead, it’s looting now.” Ashton corrected as he slowly pulled the ill-fitting pants over his leg wound. Cave hissed in pain as he pulled them up and leaned against the kitchen table. When the clothes were on he looked down at the man beneath his feet.

“I saw some of those guys on the way in. I knew most of them” Cave dejectedly whispered. He pointed downwards.

“I might have known this guy, but he literally doesn’t have a face anymore.” Ashton was starting to get excited, and his hand was perilously close to my bag of weapons.

“Now, I know The New Dawn isn’t exactly a pillar of sanity, and you are a special breed of monster, who just so happens to be in the right, but I don’t know what to make of any of this shit.” Ashton cut his hand through the air as tears started to fitfully clear his eyes.

“These were my brothers!” He fell down and leaned against the wooden cabinets. There was nothing I could say that would change anything in his life. I still killed a double handful of his friends while he was in close proximity, and he had to live with the fact that I was still breathing. I grabbed my duffel and headed towards the stairs as Luther came barreling down them.

“I got it!” Luther was carrying a baby wookie’s worth of purple hair in his first. He rushed into his office, with me behind him, and tried to open his desk.

“Did they use armor piercing bullets or something?” Luther asked quizzically when he finally noticed the destruction of his office. Sadly I had to shake my head no.

“Most modern bullets punch through the majority of common construction materials fairly well. You’d be surprised what the diminutive .22 can do to drywall.” That thought seemed to distress Luther. He put his foot on top of his desk and desperately tried to compel a drawer to open. After the drawer finally opened, quite suddenly, the wizard pulled out a map and slammed it on his desk next to the clump of hair. Without warning Luther was growling his magic at the unsuspecting hair. It didn’t take long for the wet bundle to stand on a few ‘legs’ and start to gambol over the map. The hair started to dry and smoke as it urgently pointed to a handful of warehouses next to a park in the free-fire zone.

“Why would they be in that shithole?” Luther asked as the hair fell keened and ‘died’.

“I own property there, and some good people live in that shithole. Thank you very much.” I expected better out of Luther. He gave me an apologetic look and peered back down at the map.

“Every Fae that considers themselves associated with the Unseelie has stalked through there at some point. Striking a killing blow to Mab in the heart of the free-fire zone would be a direct affront to the Unseelie spirit.” That would certainly tip things over the edge and get Oona to go after Maeve. It would also afford the New Dawn just enough time to get on the bridge out of Skye while all the fighting was concentrated around the Seelie tree.

“Can I borrow your car?” I asked hopefully. Luther gave me a distasteful look and scanned his office.

“You have me do two tracking spells, drop the hottest girl off on my doorstep, blow up my fucking house, leave a dead robot on my front lawn, let the pretty lady get stolen, scare my imp, and now you want to borrow my car?” Luther asked incredulously. I nodded sheepishly.

“Screw that. I’m driving.”

Chapter 20

 

“Why do you even have a minivan?” I complained as I finished strapping some party favors to my chest.

“A. I shop for the month, every month, because Gabby eats like an army unto herself. B. they are incredibly safe vehicles. And C. I would like to start a family one day.” Luther enunciated carefully as he ticked the items off his fingers and rammed his way onto the icy road.

“Get into my dashboard please.” Luther ordered with a gentle snap of his fingers as I started loading up magazines for my Saiga and jamming them into my vest. I set everything aside and did as I was bid. Inside another leather belt sheathe was a massive chromed six inch revolver with a vented barrel.

“Trying to stop Minotaur’s are we?” I quipped before handing it over. He slowly struggled to put it on.

“Do you have silver tipped rounds?” Luther stopped and looked at me as I was picking up my gear. I had him hand me the gun.

“I have the ones with the hole in the top.” Luther smiled self-consciously. I patted him on the shoulder and reached into my duffel.

“Hollow points are good all-around bullets, especially for Fae. With vampires, and werewolves, you want something with silver. It takes longer for the blood to coagulate and makes it harder for the wounds to   
stich themselves back up. It’s why you use fire on trolls, metal from bells on Banshees, iron on Fae in general, the list goes on.” The list I learned in the service started to come back to mind. Most of It was mined from old poems and histories and put to test by men like me.

“Not just a pretty face.” Compliments are always appreciated. I dumped the hollow point rounds out onto the floor of Luther van, much to his consternation, and started loading in some hollow points I filled with liquid silver, let cool, and coated with a heavy wax. I did the same with the speed loaders he had on his belt, which I returned to him once everything was properly loaded.

“Is that the turn?” Luther asked once we were deep enough into the free-fire zone that street lights were a forgone conclusion.

“Sure” It looked as good as any other street at this point, although it did lack a significant number of creepy crawlies. We pulled up to a warehouse and Luther killed the engine. Luther pulled his Carhartt jacket, with its sewn in runes and Batman symbol, a little closer against the cold.

“You sure about this?” If Luther was going to back out, I needed to know now. I had every reason in the world to cut my losses and run, including a fiancé who would run with me. Luther though? He was here for a girl he’d known for less than twelve hours. I knew she was partially unhinged, manipulative, and annoying as an eyelash stuck in your eyeball, but what did he think of her?

“I drove us here didn’t I?” His near hysterical smile didn’t do me any favors. We met around the front of the car.

“For vampires, Decapitation, immolation, or put something pointy in their heart until you can do one of the first two. If their human it’ll work either way.” Luther chuckled at my glib explanation as we crept towards the nearest entrance to the scary warehouse. It honestly looked cleaner than mine, and it had conveyor belts too. Luther motioned that he was moving further to the right and I nodded. 

There was a light chanting coming from somewhere near the back of the warehouse. I slid around some boxes and over a conveyor belt that was nearly stripped of all its metal. As my shoes touched the floor a man made a surprised sound to me left. I swung my shotgun around to see a homeless man curled up in a coat around a plastic jug of liquor. I swore quietly and motioned for him to run away. That did my nerves no good whatsoever. Neither did a Fear-Gorta grabbing my skull and ramming me into the corrugated metal walls. Blood started to pour from the new wound in my head, coating the Fear-Gorta’s rotting hand. I wanted to scream, but the things hand was covering my mouth.

Fear-Gorta, Hungering men, were good luck at one point or another. Now they are just really big, really mean, and really smart zombies. I wanted nothing more than to open up with my Saiga, but that was the fastest way to get Mab killed if she wasn’t dead already. The Fear-Gorta, which was probably just another Unseelie Fae stalking the free-fire zone, pulled back one hand and prepared to punch my face in. Just as its arm was coming in, three long spikes of ice punctured its arm. The Fae made a distressed sound with non-working lungs and we both turned to look at Luther. He was standing in a rather heroic pose with his wand pointed at the Fear-Gorta. It dropped to a crouch, letting me fall to the floor like a pile of useless potatoes, and made another lungless sound at the Wizard.

“You okay, Jim?” Luther asked mildly, increasing his superhero image.

“Doing great.” I coughed. The Wizard responded to me by filling the Fear-Gorta with more spikes of ice. Once the thing was shuddering on the ground I did what any good zombie hunter would do, I used my little axe and cut off its head.

“That was freaking cool.” I complimented Luther as he helped me up from besides the Fear-Gorta’s corpse. He nodded vehemently and pointed towards the back of the warehouse.

“They have a little ritual area on top of where a park used to be, behind a shipping container. I nodded, grabbed my Saiga, and walked towards the back of the warehouse. Multiple people had cut holes in the metal, rather than walk to one of the side doors, making it relatively easy to sneak out into the cold. Once I was outside I could see what Luther was talking about. Not thirty feet behind the warehouse was an oversized red shipping container, and behind that was a slightly raised park covered with woodchips being used as an obscene ritual ground. The whole area had been circled in so many torches that the snow had melted for ten feet in every direction. I sidled up to the container and listened for a few minutes. Not hearing too much interesting besides a wordless chant. I eased around the corner of the container and was conflicted about what I saw. There were thirty or so people inside the ring of torches, mostly near the container, and a couple of men and women holding small carbines. Further up what used to be a children’s playground was an old wooden picnic table that was coated in moss and graffiti. Strapped to it was a naked and bulbous Mab. Above her was my fiancé, holding the most useless looking curvy knife in existence. Triss had her hand on Mab’s belly and was whispering sweet little words into Mab’s ear as she struggled against the ropes that bound her to the old table.

There she was, right in the hornets’ nest. I leaned back against the shipping container to examine that thought for a second. Was I thinking about Mab or Triss? Mab was in a very real, very present physical danger. While Triss was the cause of that danger, making her a target. I swore and looked over to Luther. He had switched his wand to his left hand and pulled out his six pound piece of chrome. Even if I walked into that mess with my arms held high, let Mab die, I’d have to give up Luther too. I already knew I wouldn’t do it, especially not with the added cost of Luther’s life, but I wanted to go to Triss so badly.

“How many are out there?” Luther whispered as he inched closer to me. I set down my Saiga and pulled a couple shaped charges off my chest.

“A lot.” The shaped charges stuck nicely to the cold metal of the container, but I really wished I had anti-personnel mines. I used the last I had on some gnomes who tried to start a gold changing business with money they stole from my Queen. When my charges were placed I pushed the big red button at Luther.

“When things go tits-up.” I grabbed his hand and forced the detonator into it. The Wizard was starting to go green.

 

“You press the button, and you get Mab out. Understood?” Luther understood my words, but couldn’t quite grasp their meaning. I grabbed the back of his head and gave him a slow head-butt.

“Don’t let Oona start a war.” I let go of Luther and pushed him off into the darkness. He pulled a veil over him, much like Gabby’s, and disappeared. I leaned against the container and listened to the chant for a few minutes. They were waiting for something. It became apparent what when Charlie Price’s truck roared up near the prayer circle. Both Charlie Price and Joseph good got out of the ridiculous red truck.

“My children.” Joseph greeted the New Dawn’s cheers. I watched him walk up to Mab with disgust. That self-serving bastard has been killing women all over Skye to start a war between the two Courts for his own personal gains. The messiah walked up behind Mab and planted two hands on her belly. She screamed in anger and tried to hit him despite her bonds.

“Fin Bheara’s child is strong.” Goode said with some sick sense of pride as he took off his overcoat, revealing the green priests habit. 

“Too bad we took the witches power.” He grabbed the silly knife from Triss and held it high, eliciting a cheer from the sycophants in the crowd.

“Now that we have it in this little knife, we can betray to Unseelie Court on their own Territory, bringing all of our hard work to fruition!” Goode shouted in confusion, spittle dripping down his jaw. Triss grabbed the knife, jammed it into the wood next to Mab’s head, and hurriedly whispered into the Messiahs ear. He nodded in compliance for a few moments until he coughed and walked in front of the table.

“Now the hour is upon us. Now Lady Triss will cut Fin Bheara’s child from the Womb bringing about the cleansing of Queen Maeve’s holy warriors.” The messiah shouted at the top of his lungs.

Before that train of thought could go any further I bounded out from behind the container and tossed two fragmentation grenades into the gaggle of constituents. Most of them jumped away, but they were out of the fight for a few seconds one way or another. As soon as my hand was back on my shotgun I fired at the closest carbine wielding New Dawn member. My slugs chewed through the first man’s chest and the second woman’s legs. My aim was completely knackered before I got to my third target, due to a case of getting shot in the side of the vest. I was knocked over onto my side and, somewhere along the way, I emptied what was left of my magazine. My hands fumbled for another magazine, only to have everything kicked from my hands.

“Hello, Honey.” Triss said as she picked me up by the front of my vest, and put my back against the container.

“I tried to get ahold of you for lunch after our little spat, but you weren’t picking up.” Triss pouted.

“My phone was dead.” I said honestly. She ran her hand along my cheek before bashing my head into the red container.

“You’re wearing the ring.” I said with a ludicrous smile.

“Well, it’s beautiful.” Tris smashed my head one more time, making my head explode in light and pain.

For some reason, I could taste carrots.

 

Chapter 21

 

I blinked blood and a not so mild concussion out of my eyes, the acrid smoke from the torches filling every breath. There was hushed arguing behind me. As I started to turn my head my pain scale went from a three to Godzilla stepped on my toe in half a second. My vision blurred and I felt the headache from hell vibrate down my spine. Blood from my head was running down my chilled body. M chilled body that was no longer laden down with a tactical ballistic vest, twenty pounds of explosives, more in ammo, and a giant shotgun. My custom holster with my M1911A1Colt, grenades, and tomahawk were missing as well. I bit the bullet and fully opened my eyes. I was in the middle of the prayer circle, Mab still supine on the table directly ahead of me, and most of the dead trust fund bite addict and vampires in a pile not too far behind me. Charlie Price was sitting just to my right with his little shotgun.

“Morning, Princess.” He said much too cheerily for my current state of mind. Instead of replying I gave him an award winning sneer.

“Your toy is awake, Sis.” Price shouted to his left, meaning Goode and Triss had been behind me. I shot a quick glance at Mab and was glad to see the knife was still embedded close to her, and that she was still in relatively good spirits.

“Hey, Jim. How’s your head? I got a little carried away.” Triss dragged her arm along my shoulder and kneeled in front of me, genuine concern in her voice.

“I’m honestly not sure if I can it’s been worse at this point.” I chuckled and coughed slightly as Goode walked into my view.

“What’s next Mr. Messiah? Kill me and dump me in the lake?” I let out a sick depreciating laugh.

“No!” Triss rejected immediately.

“Yes.” Goode agreed at the same time in his mildly effeminate tone. Triss shot him an evil look and stood up to stare at him. My fiancé grabbed Goode’s shoulder and bodily turned him to face her.

“Remember who found you flinging faerie fire for tips in a hat, little boy.” Triss pushed Goode back with what looked like a diminutive push, only to have it move him nearly two feet.

“The New Dawn may have changed under your increased presence, but it will always be me and Charlie who brought you to us.” Triss menaced the Messiah with a finger. That was an interesting revelation.

“So…” I interjected with a clearing of the throat to garner attention.

“You weren’t originally on board with the whole ‘murder the pregnant Fae and get the Courts to kill each other’ thing?” I asked in Triss’ general direction. She looked at me guilt in her eyes and nodded her head oddly.

“It’s kind of complicated.” She said finally. Her brother nodded along with that sentiment. I sighed.

“Look, I’m tied to a chair, Goode boy wants to kill me, Mab is going to get her kid cut out of her, and the Courts are going to probably destroy Skye within the next few hours. Give me some vindication here.” Begging became one of my stronger points from my time with Oona. Triss kneeled down in front of me and set a hand on my knee. She ran her hand over her long face thoughtfully before speaking.

“I heard you saw my dad, and he always likes to complain about how I ran off. What he called protecting me, I called imprisonment. He never touched me, not like some people think, but my every thought was his to control. Vampires as old as him can make people do nearly anything. I needed somebody, so I ran home, and the only person left after a cholera outbreak was my brother.” Triss stood up and went to Charlie for a hug. It was strange to see. Even though they were standing next to each other for a couple of minutes, they hugged like a couple separated for years. Triss wiped her eyes and returned to my side.

“I started a small group for unbranded vampires, I got important people addicted to our bites to fund it, and made sure they were safe. Not that long ago, I was finding out it wasn’t enough. I met Joseph, and he had the strangest idea, and it grew in my mind like a cancer.”

“It is a cancer!” I interjected.” Triss wiped a tear from her face and walked behind me, her hand on my face. I leaned into it and enjoyed the feeling of her skin on mine, despite the blood.

“Say the word, and we don’t have to see the limb be amputated. You and I can be on a plane in two hours flat. We can go to Hawaii, Fiji, London, Japan, wherever. I untie you, get you cleaned up, go grab a burger, get out of town, and hit the airport.” Triss walked back in front of me and leaned in close to my face, her eyes pleading me to agree. A burger did sound really good right about now.

“That sounds great, but I’m fucking freezing here!” Mab shouted at us. I couldn’t help it, I started to laugh like an idiot. It started in my stomach and just rolled up from there. Triss found it the opposite of funny and smacked me in the head, knocking my chair over. My face burst into pain, but it didn’t stop my outrageous laughter. I felt my bonds slip and a familiar shape fill my hand.

“He won’t listen to reason.” Triss said with her back turned to me. Both Price and Goode moved to a better shooting position. Goode pulled out Mab’s Walther PPK and Charlie checked to make sure his shotgun was loaded.

“A true American hero. Laughing at the villain before he dies.” Goode stated haughtily. I continued to laugh and coiled my legs.

“I was born in Iceland, man.” They both looked at each other long enough for me to roll forwards and use my newly recovered pistol to shoot them both in the chest. As soon as I moved Luther, who dropped his veil, hit the big red button and shot a few more rounds at the nearby guards with his heavy revolver. The shaped charges, and the ones still attached to my vest, destroyed the areas behind us in a brilliant flash of light and sound. I was pushed along the ground by the superheated air, feeling shrapnel fly over my head. Once it didn’t feel like there was a flaming elephant sitting on my head I got up and ran towards Mab.

“You okay?” I asked her over the banging sound in my head.

“What!” She shouted as loud as she could. Considering the lack of anything bleeding and her having a hearing problem, I logged her as okay. I turned to try and find Luther, only to get punched in the face.

 

“Bones!” I heard Mab yell distantly as I fell to the ground. I rolled over in the wood chips, my mind still spinning, and saw a slightly charred Triss coming after me. I instinctively raised my pistol and shot her three times in the chest. It wasn’t until she fell down next to me that I realized what I had done.

“Triss!” I screamed as I rolled her over and pulled her up into my lap. I wiped bloody hair from her face and looked at the wound in her chest. A vampire could survive a wound to the heart if it was a stake or other object that sealed the wound, but not something that tore the heart to shreds. Tears rolled down my face as I held Triss in my arms.

“I love you, Triss.” I begged her not to go with my words. She grabbed my hand and put it over her ripped chest.

“You can’t fix something broken by breaking more things.” Her voice was a thin thing. Triss squeezed my hand almost as hard as she ever had before going completely limp.

“You can’t go.” I heard my voice outside of myself. It was a small, tiny, fractured little thing. Tears boiled out of the corners of my eyes down my cold cheeks. In the end, I had to let go of her body, its weight too heavy for me to hold any longer. I grabbed the bloody wedding ring and jammed it onto my finger. Triss was long dead, I couldn’t help that now, and the mages needed me.

“Everything okay over there?” I asked as Mab pulled on Luther’s Carhartt jacket over her nearly frozen body. I had to commend Luther for doing his best not to stare. The Wizard nodded, still not staring, and was looking at the curvy knife.

“I think I can get you your power back.” He said enthusiastically.

“I should hope so.” Mab poked Luther in the arm impatiently. He held out his hand for her to take. She only put her hand out halfway, almost afraid to take his hand, and Luther lightly took Mab’s hand into his. They both blushed before Luther’s eyes went black and he started to growl into the night. The entire earth felt like it was shaking again. Colors blended together and the already guttering torches nearly flickered into darkness. Reality itself seemed to bend around the mages, making my head feel like it was being crushed in a vice. At some point I fell to my knees, the power in the night becoming an impossible weight. Just as I thought my lungs would pop from the pressure there was a brilliant flash of light that banished all the power from the air. I found myself on the ground next to Goode’s corpse.

“Are those mine?” Confusion halted my voice as I pushed over Joseph’s body to find my holster wrapped up in his priest’s habit. I called him something unpleasant and pulled my equipment from under his body before standing up. Luther, who had been blown across the playground near Charlie Price’s truck due to the spells backlash, and was slowly gaining his own foot.

“Boy’s, we have a problem.” Mab complained hastily from the behind the picnic table. Luther and I both moved as fast as our battered bodies would allow.

“What’s wrong?” We nearly asked in unison. Mab looked up at us with fear filled eyes.

“My water broke.”

Luther gave me a glazed look.

I gave Luther a glazed look.

“Boys!” Mab shouted and snapped her fingers to get our attention.

“My! Water! Broke!” How Mab managed to articulate each word at that volume I will never know.

“Hospital.” Luther said as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head. He put an arm under Mab’s and started to help her towards the van. While he was doing that I headed towards Goode, pulling out my newly recovered axe.

“Where are you going?” Luther shouted over his shoulder as he ran towards his van with Mab in his arms. I couldn’t tell if Mab was happy about that fact she had been picked up or not.

“Just go. I need to get a head to Oona or were all dead anyways.” With that I kicked over Joseph’s body and took my axe to his throat. 

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

I stole Price’s absurd truck and rushed through the neon lit roads towards Oona’s club. Next to me were three heads wrapped in Goode’s robe.

“I thought wrapping you up would be a good idea just in case I got pulled over.” I said to the deaf and dumb heads, having no one else to vent to, as I wiped the blood of my face.

 

“But I’m in such a hurry I’d probably just use this neat little Taser Charlie had on his front seat on the poor bastard.” The heads didn’t seem to appreciate my humor.

“Fine, don’t laugh, be a bunch of sore losers.” We shared the rest of the ride in awkward silence, rushing past slow moving cars and people rushing from one nighttime venue to another. It was nearly dawn by the time I pulled my misappropriated truck in front of the entrance to Lush. I grabbed my bag of silent friends and hopped out of the truck.

“You can’t park there.” There bouncer with the snake tattoo spoke over the angry crowd. I looked at the red truck, down at my open suit and bloody torso, and finally at my blood dripping bag.

“Do you really think I give a fuck where I park?” I asked skeptically. He swallowed hard, the snake on his head shrinking into a little ball.

“That’s what I thought.” I said as I walked past him. The line beside him was in an uproar as I pushed my way through the door. The inside of Lush was worse, or better depending where you stood, than ever. The music was louder, there were more people, the lights were flashier, there were more Fae dancing with more synthetics and people with cybernetic parts, drug fumes were floating in the air, pills were literally flying in the air, mages were tossing spells into the air, and everyone was happy. I walked into the mess and tried to push my way towards the wall that would lead me to the door downstairs, but the sea of people was nigh impassable.

“Move!” I tried to shout over their excited cries of joy. There was one place I needed to be, down in the pit with Oona, one place I wanted to be, home in bed, and one person I wanted, Triss. Tears and madness boiled up inside me again. I thrashed myself through the people and Fae until I fell onto the dark wall. My parents thought I was dead, Shelly only put up with me because of the relationship I had with her father, Oona treated me like a toy, Luther was a funny button press from a psycho, Deon lived in the wood 300 days of the year, Andre was only interested in me if I was shot, Adrian only cared if I brought him computers, I even had to pay to talk to Eric now, but Triss was the one person that chose me. I didn’t have to do anything but pick up the phone and say’ hey’ and she would have dropped everything to have a cup of tea. My eyes were completely useless from the tears and my ears were no better.

“Hey, buddy.” A pair of security guards pulled me around, a small circle forming around us. The clubbers around us were watching expectantly, wanting us to fight, to destroy, put on a show. I wiped the tears out of my eyes, doing little more than smearing more blood on my face.

“Let’s not do this.” The leftmost guard slowly reached for my arm. I wasn’t going to play anymore games, especially with two humans interrupting my important time of emotional decompression. I pulled my 1911 and put a round in both guard’s legs. The immediate crowd around me screamed and tried to run away. The gun slid back into the leather nicely as I walked towards the back door with a great deal of breathing room. The DJ gave me a thumbs up as I pushed my way into the clinically clean hallway.

 

The hallway, which was always a refreshing change of pace from the club behind the door, felt especially serene after the last couple hours. Thinking about everything that I’ve taken away from others, and taken away from myself, this plain room was pure bliss. I pushed myself off the door and headed towards the Bookkeeper. Halfway down the hall I had the misfortune of looking behind me. My steps left behind imperfect, defective, injured, little imprints of blood from where my shoes touched the tile. Looking down at myself one more time I realized why. I was clutching the bag of heads to my chest, squeezing them of whatever blood remained in their severed skulls. It had soaked what little was left of my suit and pants. I sighed and mounted the steps down to the Bookkeepers domain.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up.” The Bookkeeper grumbled from behind his desk. The onion and dirt smell hit me like a brick as I stepped into the light. Each of the stone wolves in the mantle had moved again, each of them lower than the last time I had seen them.

“I have what the Queen wants.” I dropped my grisly package on the Goat’s desk. He frowned at it and tossed his greyed beard over his shoulder before peeling back some of the cloth.

“Rather effective.” The Bookkeeper leaned back in his chair and readjusted his beard. My sore arms didn’t think hacking through three spinal columns was effective in any sense of the word.

 

“Are you sure you want to take this bag in there?” The Bookkeeper asked curiously, pushing the bag my way with one of his cloven hooves. My mind floundered to understand what he might mean.

“It’s been a long night.” I said with a small hand motion.

“My Queen hungers for war. The Court prepares for it. Who are you to deny them what they want?” The Bookkeeper asked arrogantly. My face must have shown my horror at the thought.

“You can certainly do as she bid you, I won’t stand in your way, just think about what she really wants.” His haughty voice begged me to launch myself over the table at him.

“You would rather let her break the Accords, and be in the wrong, than tell her the truth?” I was stunned beyond words. He shrugged.

“I would facilitate my Queen in all she wants.” The Bookkeeper let out a long sigh as I grabbed my dripping bag. I walked to the large door on the right.

“You should start thinking about what she needs, rather than what she wants, you might live longer.” I threatened as I started to push open the heavy doors.

“I have lived a very long time, little man.” He grumbled behind me. His over the shoulder one liners were getting rather tiresome. I was about to tell him as such until I saw Oona and Fin Bheara’s new throne room. The Viking-esque mead hall had been replaced by a moonlit glade. Fires raged under snow laden boughs, Fae of all shapes, sizes, and colors reading themselves for war as drums beat in the distance. I closed the doors behind me and walked into a wicked wonderland of snow and violence. The drums thrummed in my chest more intensely than the club music had, and the frantic movement of the volatile Fae was even more impassable. I could barely see Fin Bheara’s head over the seething crowd of misshapen faery flesh. There was one way to get their attention. I pulled my M1911A1 and fired a solitary round into the air.

Everything stopped. Every single Fae soldier turned to face the iron I openly brandished, weapons and claws slowly coming to bare. The pistol lowered to the closest Unseelie Fae and readied to fire.

“Wait!” Oona’s clear voice roared over the bristling crowd. A line opened in the horde, letting me see Oona in all her glory. She was wearing a form fitting armor that, although it looked like metal, moved like leather and rippled in color with every step. Her hair was tied back in a vicious tail and she was carrying a wicked knife that was almost long enough to be called a short sword.

“I see you have a present for me.” My Queen said sweetly, beckoningly me forward with her fingers. Slow breathing and steady steps took me through the throng of angry Fae. Near the end of the opening, which was quickly closing behind me, something that looked like Big Bird on meth stepped in front of me. It gurgled something I could never hope to translate. A staring contest didn’t seem like it would go my way, especially considering the things lack of eyelids, so I put my pistol in its stomach and let loose until the slide locked back. Oona was smirking at me over her shoulder as I stepped over the screaming bird’s body.

“What did your human bring us?” Fin Bheara asked beamingly. He was sitting cross-legged on an ornate stone table in armor that matched his wives. Also on the table was an elf in a nearly see through white dress. The Unseelie king was petting the tied down elves hair like she was a cat, and she didn’t seem to mind. Fin Bheara pushed himself off the stone and tapped on a spot not too far from the girl. It brought me uncomfortably close to what I considered a god, but I set the improvised bag on the stone. The Unseelie King pushed me back with his palm and greedily opened the bag.

“He did well.” Fin Bheara consented as Oona took his spot in front of their trophies. Oona turned around with Charlie and Goode’s heads in her hands. She breathed over their eyes until both started to shake themselves awake, trying to scream without lungs. Fin Bheara waved as Oona smiled.

“We take it to heart when our subjects are murdered so heartlessly.” Oona hissed at the thrashing heads. She called over a few goblins with a whistle and handed them the two heads.

“Learn rugby.” She said plainly before the green skinned Fae ran off playfully. As punishment for gruesome murder and planned fratricide, they were consigned to the fate of rubber balls for an eternity. What about Triss? I worried as Oona grabbed my fiancé’s head from behind her.

“Who is this pretty little thing?” Oona cajoled me, seeing the obvious discomfort on my face. She came closer, bringing Triss’ head within a few feet of me. I almost told my Queen exactly who Triss was to me, but that would make her fate infinitely worse.

“She was the vampire mastermind behind the plot against you my Queen.” I spoke ever so slowly, staring into Triss’ half lidded eyes. Oona gave me an evil look and threw Triss into the nearest fire. I tried to run after her, but Oona picked me up by the throat and threw me to the ground.

“Vampires are barely a step up from humans, let alone ones who deign to mate with humans on a regular basis.” Oona spit at my feet as I pushed the snow away from my face and tried to get up.

“Who was she working for?” Oona’s voice pushed me back to the cold ground. My mind was being churned into mush by the force of her voice alone.

“No one!” I shouted after locking a leg under my weight and pushing myself up. Oona didn’t seem to like me standing on my own and picked me up by the front of my blood soaked clothes.

“Do you mock this Court for preparing for war?” My Queen’s eyes gleamed with hate, her blade pressed against my belly button. My intestines turned to water when my professional eye overviewed what the knife would do to me.

“I do not need to mock the Court to tell you that attacking Maeve will break the Accords.” Oona threw me to the ground again and stalked over to the elf on the table. My ribs cried out in pain as Fin Bheara gave his wife a worried look. Neither of them wanted to go to war, but this all had to be played out very carefully. Hopefully I wouldn’t die in the interim.

“Do you champion yourself for the Seelie Court, here, in my home?” Oona nearly shouted at me. It took me a bit to stand up, but I did eventually. I was tempted to ask which answer wouldn’t get me hit.

“I champion myself for the Accords, and say that all wrongdoing was done at the hands of human and vampire agents.” I suppressed the urge to smile until Fin Bheara gave me a harried look.

“So why shouldn’t I kill you, and every other human I can set my little fiends on?” Oona asked in a strangely seductive tone. Oh, I guess I made a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Think fast. I took a few shaky steps towards Oona.

“You need me.” Before I could start me second sentence Oona’s knife shot out next to my throat.

“Why?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. I put a finger on her blade and pushed it away from my throat, drawing a painful line of blood as I did.

 

“You need me, because I can kill you ill-favored flock for you without breaking your precious Accords.” Oona and I shared a smile, and then she pushed the blade closer to my throat again.

“What about every other human in Skye? Will you be half as effective when you are the only man standing, alone, in a shattered city?” Oona’s eyes glittered at the thought of killing that many people at once. This time, I leaned into the blade, a small line of blood being drawn on my throat. It hurt more than any knife I’d ever been cut by.

“I shouldn’t have to explain the first law of the Accords to you, so I won’t, but I have a better reason than that.” Oona’s eyes shot from the blood trickling down her clean blade to my eyes.

“What?” Her interest instantly piqued.

“What could be more fun that stalking a pretty boy at night, lure him into your club, and then dragging him down into your sick little funhouse. Wouldn’t you miss being able to do that? Wouldn’t you miss watching people dancing, fighting, and fucking, in your city? Hearing about the escapades of your Fae all over the city? Wouldn’t you be bored without people?” Oona’s eyes glazed a bit as I spoke, as if she was weighing her options. I knew she didn’t really want to fight Maeve in the first place, but she needed a real reason to call of her horde all the same.

 

“Your tongue is full of silver.” Oona grabbed the back of my head and pushed the knife a little deeper into my throat. For a second I thought she was going to cut my head off.

“I won’t do war on Maeve this day, and you will walk out of her under your own power.” Oona let me fall to the snow covered ground.

“Leave now before I change my mind.” Oona whispered as she turned

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

 

 

 

Chapter 23

 

I ran into two bits of luck once I got back outside. The first being Charlies flamboyant truck was right where I left it, the second being it had a few work clothes and a pair of coveralls I could change into. After I changed in the parking lot I started driving towards Wayne county hospital. Mab should still be there and, if God was kind, be out of labor.

The drive over was quiet, save for the trucks engine, giving me too much time to think. As I drove, thousands of Unseelie Fae were probably putting away weapons and cursing the fact that they didn’t get a chance to kill because of some flesh bag, while thousands more in the Seelie Court blessing my name for the opposite reason. An untold number of lives were saved because of the things I did, and all I could do was stare at the bloody seat next to me. What I did didn’t make me a hero, it kept the status quo. I was still a killer who hurt the people closet to me. And I was still a whiny little bitch about it.

The hospital came into view and I found a parking space in the boondocks of outer space. I didn’t plan on going back to the stolen truck anyways. From here on out it was cabs for me. I found an entrance, waved of a few nurses who tried to shuffle me off to the ER, and found the maternity ward.

“Knock, Knock.” I said as I mirrored my words on the door of Mab’s little room. She looked so small in the hospital bed, holding an even tinier bundle of cloth. Mab pushed herself up onto her pillow with a wince.

 

“Hey.” She murmured quietly. I heard a sound to the left of me and saw Luther stir himself awake in a chair that seemed too small for him. At some point or another he recovered his Carhartt jacket.

“You’re alive.” Luther said with a surprised smile. I nodded slowly, still not entirely sure if I could agree with him.

“How’s the kid?” I asked as Mab reached to push a little button beside her IV. She smiled at me before saying anything.

“I named him after you, you know?” Mab pulled the blanket aside and showed me the little boys face. He already had little splotches of dark hair on his head. I moved forward a little and looked down into his blue eyes.

“James Luther Ulster.” Mab affirmed proudly. I felt pride swell in my chest. It was that same feeling that hit me when I watched Lilly being pushed down a hall in this very hospital. His little hand pushed itself into the air and Mab raised him in my direction. I cautiously put out a finger and let my namesake take it. He was so delicate, yet so strong. So pure.

He didn’t belong anywhere near me.

“He’s beautiful” I said as I quickly pulled my finger away and pushed it into my stolen overalls. Mab didn’t seem to notice my sudden reticence.

 

“He is, and he’s all mine until he’s fifteen.” Mab cooed at the child and hugged it closer to her. I looked at Luther for clarification, but he was guiltily looking at his shoes.

“What do you mean?” I had to ask, not knowing what she could possibly mean. Mab pulled little James in so tight I thought he might suffocate.

“He was the price of my magic. Carry Fin Bheara’s child to term and raise him to the age of fifteen until his father brings him to Court.” Mab wiped her face with the ridiculously spotted hospital gown and brushed back what little hair the baby had.

“Tha…?” I was flabbergasted, but I really couldn’t say anything. Mab told me what her magic was doing to the people around her. She needed a way out, and the Unseelie Court provided one for her. I leaned down and kissed Mab on the forehead.

“He’s a beautiful boy.” Honesty wasn’t always a strong point, but sometimes it was the best option. Mab grabbed my hand before I turned to go.

“Thank you, Bones.” She said earnestly. I nodded and headed towards the door. I took one last look at the lives I’d helped save, and saw Luther pulling his chair closer to Mab, clasping her hand in his. It’d be sweet if she didn’t eat him alive.

 

“Is there a Shelly Bright in the hospital?” I asked the nearest android I could find. The full metal thing was hooked into more wires than I could probably count in a lifetime. Its glass eyes flashed for a second.

“Third floor, room 322. Non-critical head injury. Ready for discharge.” The android spit out soullessly. I patted the bot on the shoulder and headed towards the elevator.

“Thanks, friend.” It ignored me, but if it registered any kindness at all, it was there for the taking. The elevator took me up another floor and room 322 was just a short jot down the hallway. It was one of those sadistically bright rooms with a wall of windows that faced outside and another facing the inside of the hospital that you could cover with curtains. I saw Shelly reading from a little tablet and knocked on the doorframe to her room.

“How’s your head?” I asked guiltily, pointing to the bandage pasted to the front of her skull. Shelly pushed away her tray and caught me up in a hug.

“My head is fine.” She said excitedly as she dragged me into the room. Shelly moved my head around and looked at the many cuts and bruises on it.

“Screw my head, what about yours?” Shelly poked a bruise and I flinched like a little girl.

“Nothing a months’ worth of sleep won’t fix.” I said glibly, looking down at my feet.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Shelly grabbed my jaw and forced me to look at her. My chest tightened and another ball clogged my throat. I looked at Shelly’s head, what should have been a perfect head, covered in a bloodied bandage.

“Tri…I…you…” I couldn’t talk. Shelly pulled me into a hug and let me cry instead. Something inside me was broken, it couldn’t be fixed, but Shelly was pretty good with duct tape. At some point I fell to the floor but Shelly held onto me all the same.

“I’m sorry.” Was all I could say when I finally finished sobbing. I pulled something of a rag from the coveralls, hoped it wasn’t covered in ass juice, and wiped my face with it.

“You don’t have to be sorry, we’re family.” Shelly said before pulling me to my feet. I wiped my face again and stuffed the dirty rag into a random pocket.

“What happened to a tenant who knew your dad?” I sniffled. When I looked up at Shelly I saw the strangest look on her face.

“After everything we’ve shared, that’s what you think of us?” I blinked my eyes a few times and stared at the enraged blonde. Her face started to turn beet red and I thought she might take a swing at me.

“No?”

“My god, you are stupid.” She spat. I took a few cautious steps back and started walking from the room.

“Where do you think you are going, James?” She asked in a tone that was scarier for its clarity.

“Uh, back home to sleep?” I asked, not sure if it was the right answer. Shelly sighed, tossed her tablet in a hospital bag, and walked up to me.

“Well you’re in no condition to be alone at the moment. You are to freaking depressed.” Shelly complained as she threw a strong arm over my sore shoulders I took great comfort in that small gesture.

“Thank you.” I said cautiously. Shelly nodded and started to walk with me down the hallway as I fiddled with my gold and ruby engagement ring.

“We are family. Dad brought you in, and we decided to keep you. You don’t have to apologize for crying, you can sleep on my couch, and you can lie about what you’re getting me for Christmas.” Shelly punched me in the arm as we walked down the hall. I leaned into her a little more.

“Oh, Mab had her kid. It’s a little boy.”

Shelly made a sound of pure joy that must have come directly from her ovaries.


End file.
